A Traditional Ninja Romance
by Sinnatious
Summary: TezRyo Ninja AU. Ryoma's mission: To infiltrate the Seigaku clan and seduce their leader.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The wonders of Tenipuri do not belong to me, and as such I am not profiting from them. This fiction was written purely for enjoyment.

Warning: Contains violence and yaoi. If either of these things bothers you, please don't read – this fic is not for you. No complaining about things you were warned about!

Author's Note: I seem to find myself doing a lot of AUs recently, which is a bit weird for me. Oh well, I blame Tenipuri crack. Another multi-parter, will probably be 14 chapters plus this short prologue. I'm not doing anything crazy like updating daily again – it'll probably be one chapter everything three or so days.

One other thing I should point out is that while this is a ninja AU set roughly in the pre-Meiji Restoration era, it is not at all historically or culturally accurate. Accuracy would remove most of the fun parts of both the action and the romance, so I made a conscious decision to exert creative license in these areas. I'm already quite aware of the liberties taken, as I studied that aspect of history quite thoroughly at University; please just ignore them and don't waste your time pointing them out to me, as unless you happen to have completed a Masters in the subject you won't be telling me anything I don't already know. Thanks in advance.

After that way-too-long author's note… Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Prologue

* * *

Ryoma clenched the shuriken in his left hand tightly, holding his breath lest it gave him away. Biding his time, he waited for what felt like an eternity, willing himself not to move even a muscle.

His target ambled into the room, yawning and scratching at his stomach. Ryoma tensed, muscles flexed and ready for action. He forced himself to remain patient and focused. There would be an opening… any minute… _there_! With cat-like speed, the black-clad teen snapped out his wrist, sending three shuriken flying with deadly precision through the air. As soon as they left his hand, he was already moving, leaping to the side. His attack wouldn't - _couldn't_ - miss, but their trajectory would reveal his position and it was just stupid to take that risk.

The target, with an almost uncaring nonchalance, produced a kodachi from what seemed to be thin air, deflecting the first two throwing stars with the short blade and catching the third with his spare hand. Ryoma cursed as the projectile came spinning back towards him. Rolling to the side, he threw another shuriken. The man dodged it easily, but he wasn't the target. The throwing star sliced into the wire behind him.

A heavy lamp dropped from the ceiling. The target nimbly dodged sideways, and immediately hit a trip wire. Brown eyes widened as the ankle snagged it, and he lurched forward, ducking low in anticipation of another trap.

The wire was just a ruse. There were no more traps hidden in the room. But it forced the man off balance and put him within reach. Ryoma darted forward with his own kodachi brandished.

Blood spattered across the floor.

Ryoma nearly forgot himself when the blade actually met flesh. Had he actually done it? Did he actually land a blow on the old man? Even if it was a shallow wound, that he'd actually drawn blood…

The victory was short-lived. In an instant, the man's eyes had hardened, and Ryoma was being driven back towards the corner under a flurry of insanely quick blows that he barely managed to deflect. An instant later his sword went flying from his hand, he was thrown with an audible thump against the wall, and a blade was at his throat.

They stood there at a silent impasse for a long moment. Ryoma was acutely aware of the prick of cold steel against his neck and scarcely dared to draw a breath. A strange mixture of hate, respect and fear bubbled within him.

The slightest of smirks grazed his opponent's lips as he finally withdrew. "Heh, not bad, brat. You actually managed to land a blow on the great Echizen Nanjiroh."

Ryoma cursed silently, wondering if maybe there would be a long enough moment of distraction to try and get the old man with the blade still hidden in his shoe. In the end, he decided that he'd endured more than enough humiliation for the day.

The old man was looking at him somewhat contemplatively now, absently wiping the blood from the shallow gash on his forearm. "Hmm, you're fourteen by now, right?"

Ryoma scowled. You would think his own father would know his age. "Fifteen."

"Right, right. Ho ho, if memory serves me correctly she'd be about that age... yes, yes," Nanjiroh muttered, nodding to himself in satisfaction. He whirled and proclaimed, "Boy, I think it's time for another mission."

Ryoma perked up, ears alert.

"It'll be deep long-term undercover," he said with a wink. Now Ryoma was interested. He'd done a couple of short term undercover missions, but the cover usually only had to last long enough to get him close enough to the target to kill them. The rest of his missions had either been simple retrievals or straightforward deliveries.

"...You'll infiltrate the Seigaku clan."

Interest abruptly turned to wariness. He was supposed to infiltrate a ninja clan? That would be considerably trickier than dealing with security-conscious merchants and unskilled bandits. "The one that serves Ryuuzaki-daimyo?" he clarified.

"The same!" Nanjiroh chuckled to himself. Ryoma had heard of the Seigaku clan, but that was about where his knowledge ended. They were not a particularly notorious clan, which meant that they were either very small or very good at covering their tracks. There was a rumour that they had emerged victorious from skirmishes with the Fudomine and Hyotei clans recently, though. It wasn't so surprising with Fudomine - they were relatively new blood - but Hyotei was a large, well-known clan backing a powerful daimyo and boasting a pool of top class ninja. Seigaku might be an unknown now, but if they continued messing with Hyotei, things would not remain that way for long.

The suggestion was an unusual one from his father. The old man liked to avoid notice as much as possible; Ryoma had not missed the fact that all of his missions were safely neutral, work-for-hire sort of contracts that wouldn't tread on any political toes. Infiltrating a ninja clan was about one toe-step away from assassinating retainers.

"How would I infiltrate?" he asked, not seeing an easy way to do so. Fortunately Seigaku was not based around family like most other clans - otherwise there would be no hope of gaining access. Even becoming hired help in this situation would be a risky endeavour; no matter how flawless the act, there were bound to be background checks that he couldn't pass. Fooling paranoid merchants was easy with the right preparation. Attempting to fool professional spies was just plain stupid.

"Heh, I go way back with the daimyo's wife. She used to lead that clan – she'll get you in no questions asked. I'll set up a meeting."

It wasn't exactly undercover then, was it? "The objective?"

Nanjiroh snapped his fingers and leered at him. "Seduce their leader."

Ryoma was becoming irritated. "Quit joking around." His father's expression didn't change, though. "...You're serious?"

"Absolutely!"

"Why?!"

"Don't question your mission directives! You've got three days to prepare. I'll set you up with an audience to get you in. You'll have to sneak out and report back at every half moon. You'll probably have other missions on the new moon nights."

Gritting his teeth, Ryoma managed a shallow bow. "Understood." His father grinned at him and sauntered away.

A dangerous infiltration and seduction for no apparent reason? Dirty old pervert. How was he supposed to do this?

"Ho ho, at last the boy will become a man!" Nanjiroh sung the next room over.

Ryoma's hand tightened around a shuriken. He was definitely going to kill that old man someday.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: In unrelated news, buchouslvr is translating The Dispossession of Echizen Ryoma into Spanish! I'm incredibly flattered that she'd go to the trouble and sort of psyched about having the fic out there in another language. It's a pretty huge deal to just about any author to have that sort of honour conferred upon them. Thanks buchouslvr!

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 1

* * *

The daimyo's wife was a portly woman, resting amidst a sea of pillows and stinking heavily of perfume. Her age was starting to show on her face, and even if it was twenty of thirty years ago Ryoma was having a hard time imagining her ever being the leader of a ninja clan. Nonetheless, he kept his head bowed and muscles tense, prepared for anything.

"Echizen Ryoma, was it?"

"Yes," he replied succinctly. He probably ought to have been more respectful, but his resentment over his father giving him such an absurd mission was still colouring his mood.

"So, that troublemaker _is_ still alive. Huh. Even got himself a son." Lady Ryuuzaki regarded him with a comfortable grin, and Ryoma felt his hackles rise.

When he didn't respond, she waved a hand a lazy hand at him. "At ease. I got his letter. Said he wanted you to join the Seigaku clan, but I didn't believe it until now." She stared at him thoughtfully. "Still, the clan can always use another pair of hands. I'll summon someone to escort you there to meet with them."

Disbelief swept across him. They were going to let him in that easily? No background checks, no cross-examination… not even some sort of test to make sure he really was a ninja?

As though anticipating his next question, Ryuuzaki continued, "They'll evaluate you themselves, of course, to see what you can do. If you're not up to scratch, you'll just join the training with the rest of the rookies. My own granddaughter joins them for it sometimes." This last part was added in a fond tone. "Though I'm sure if you're _his_ son, you'll be heading out on missions in no time."

Ryoma was at a loss. "Thank you." What kind of undercover mission _was_ this? It seemed like the old woman knew everything except his primary objective.

"Right then, you're dismissed! I'm looking forward to seeing how you perform. Wait in the room to the left of the entrance. Someone will be by to pick you up shortly," she ordered.

Ryoma stood and bowed abruptly. He couldn't leave fast enough.

The room Ryuuzaki directed him to was much plainer than the rest of the building, with undecorated wooden panelling on the walls, tatami mats on the floor and single door covered in rice paper. Golden eyes roamed over every nook and cranny, searching for hidden entrances out of habit. Ryuuzaki had been a ninja once, hadn't she? Ryoma knocked on the walls, but none were hollow. The ceiling plaster was smooth. Experimentally, he tapped his feet against the tatami mats, satisfied when he finally found one that produced a different sound to the others. He sat on that one, and faced the shouji. No one would be able to sneak up on him. It would be stupid to relax just because things were going smoothly so far. Ryuuzaki was a _retired_ ninja. The ones he'd soon be meeting wouldn't necessarily trust him so readily.

He didn't have to wait for long. The door slid open, revealing another boy about his age. "Echizen Ryoma?" he asked. His voice was loud and had a harsh sort of twang to it. Ryoma nodded slowly. The boy was wearing a haori instead of the expected ninja garb; was he a servant? "I'm here to escort you to Seigaku's clan headquarters!"

Ryoma winced. What sort of idiot announced that to anyone who might be listening? Ninja clans didn't exactly go about advertising the location of their base. At that thought, he tensed again. Perhaps it was part of a trap?

"I'm Horio! Pleased to meet you! If you have any questions about Seigaku, you can ask me! I've got two years of ninja experience! They'll be putting me on regular missions any day now!" No, he didn't think so. If it were a trap, they wouldn't have sent this idiot with the conspicuous monobrow.

He didn't comment as Horio enthusiastically led him from the building, through the town, and into the nearby forest. "Quiet one, aren't you? Don't worry; everyone's really nice! Except for this one guy who's always hissing! Everyone's scared of him – except for me of course! He's one of the main squad, but I know that I could take him in a fight. My shuriken never miss their target!"

Ryoma half-tuned him out, eyes flitting about the trees searching for suspicious shadows. They walked for quite a while before he saw any. The first one he noticed halted, came a little closer, then continued on their way. The second one he only caught a glimpse of. They were good.

Horio stopped abruptly, looking left and right. "Ummmm…."

It would be a stupid place to hold an ambush - the path was too narrow to use the advantage of numbers. Ryoma waited patiently as Horio scuffed his feet and started sweating. He glanced back the way they came. The path contained many forks and twists and turns, doubtlessly to prevent people finding Seigaku's hideout easily. Ryoma had been memorising the path as he went, but was starting to wonder if that was a wasted effort.

"….Are you lost?"

Horio jerked at the sound of his voice, then started laughing nervously. "What? No, of course not! I just thought you might like a rest is all! We've been walking for a while!"

They were definitely lost.

Sighing inwardly, Ryoma cast another glance back the way they'd come. How annoying. At least he'd be able to find his way back to town again easily enough.

Leaves rustled in stagnant air. Ryoma's senses went alert, fingers automatically reaching for the comforting weight of his sword.

Horio glanced at him. "Eh? What's wrong?"

"Someone's coming."

He whirled back around, head swinging back and forth. "What are you talking about? I don't see anybody!"

"What are you, blind?" came the laughing voice from above them. Horio all but shrieked, whereas Ryoma just stepped back lightly as a tall, spiky-haired ninja dropped to the ground with a weighty thud between them. The stranger laughed and clapped Horio on the back. "Relax, relax. You just have to work harder. But this new guy's not bad, huh?"

Ryoma eyed the newcomer warily. His dark, close-fitting clothing pegged him as a ninja, but his attitude was just as outrageous as Horio's. "You're from Seigaku?"

"Of course! The name is Momoshiro, but you can call me Momo-chan!"

Weirdo. "Right."

"Momo-chan-senpai is one of the best ninja we have!" Horio announced proudly. "He's part of the main squad that get to go on all the important missions! But what are you doing here?"

"Came looking for you guys! You were taking ages. Did you get lost again?"

"I… that is-" Horio spluttered.

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'll take you the rest of the way. Echizen Ryoma, right?"

Ryoma nodded, relaxing his stance a little.

"Looks like you've got some promise. Come on, it's not far to go. I'll introduce you to everyone!"

"Momo-chan-senpai, that's supposed to be my job!"

Rolling his eyes, Ryoma followed after them. Sure enough, it was only another five minutes of walking until a sheer wall came into view. Momoshiro took them through the open gates, nodding to two other ninja on guard who snapped to attention at his presence. Apparently the spiky-haired weirdo really _was_ a high-ranking ninja. You wouldn't know it from his loud mouth and casual attitude.

"We'll take you to meet with the vice-captain first," Momoshiro explained. "Horio, you can go rejoin the others training." Horio gaped like a fish for several moments, apparently dearly wishing to argue, before finally snapping out a rough bow and retreating. Ryoma was pleased to see him go. What kind of ninja – in training or not – couldn't even remember the way to their own headquarters?

They ventured past several buildings, heading directly to the largest one in the centre. Standing outside was an odd pair of ninja – one with bright red hair and bandages all over him, and the other with tidy black hair and a warm smile. "Oishi-senpai! I brought him!"

"Thank you, Momoshiro," the black-haired one replied with a nod. His smile widened as he regarded Ryoma. He radiated the sort of warm personality that made you instinctively want to trust him. "You must be Echizen."

Ryoma nodded politely.

"I'm Oishi, and second in charge of the Seigaku clan. If you ever have any problems or questions, feel free to come talk to me. It can be anything, no matter how minor. It's my job to ensure the wellbeing of everyone in the clan. This is my partner, Eiji."

"Hoi hoi, nice to meet you!" The red-haired ninja bounced on the soles of his feet.

"Before we introduce you to anyone else, we'll run you through a small test to gauge your skill, if you don't mind."

Golden eyes quickly darted about, taking in their surroundings. "Here?"

"Ah, no, there's a training yard by the east wall we'll use. Unless you'd like to rest for a while and take the test tomorrow?"

"Today is fine." He was confident that he could take any test they threw at him.

Ten minutes later, Ryoma was standing in the centre of a clearing with a dojo at his back and trees on all other sides. He stretched his senses out, searching for any sign of the presence of the other two ninja. There were a trio of young trainees – he used the term 'young', but they were probably the same age as him – spying from the bushes to his left. Horio was among them. He made a mental note to be careful not to accidentally skewer one of them, as that would hardly endear him to the clan leader he was supposed to seduce. It was still awfully tempting. Nosy brats.

Movement. A dart cleaved through the air with a faint whistle. Ryoma somewhat casually deflected it mid-flight with a well-placed kunai, and then threw two sets of three shuriken towards a tree at the end of training ground. The first set drove Eiji from his hiding place, but the second set neatly pinned his right arm to the tree by the fabric of his sleeve.

"Hoi, nice work! Don't think you've got us beaten yet, though!" Eiji laughed.

"You're referring to your partner right behind me?" Ryoma asked in a bored tone. Oishi froze, neck only a fingernail's width away from the tip of a dagger that the teen was almost carelessly holding over his shoulder.

"Not bad, Echizen," Oishi remarked, starting to step away from the blade.

"Don't move!" Ryoma snapped threateningly, jerking the dagger a little. Oishi halted, expression still fixed in an easy-going smile. Frowning, Ryoma snapped out a wrist, sending another blade flying and slicing through the trip wire just behind Oishi. As soon as the kunai left his grasp he ducked and rolled behind his opponent. A barrage of blunted darts sailed harmlessly past where he'd been standing mere moments before - the trap Eiji had been setting up before attacking. He spared a moment to be mildly impressed at how well the two worked together – Ryoma hadn't seen any signal passed between the pair indicating that the trap was ready.

"Ah, Eiji, he got us," Oishi remarked congenially, shoulders slumping. "Didn't even fall for our surrender."

The redhead had already extricated his arm from the tree. "Ochibi's an even better ninja than we are!" Eiji crowed.

"Ochibi?" Ryoma asked dryly.

"'Cause you're so small! Isn't he cute, Oishi?"

Ryoma felt his eyebrow tick, but didn't otherwise react. This was a good thing. Nicknames indicated acceptance. It still boggled his mind that the Seigaku clan would accept him so readily, though. What sort of strings had his father pulled?

Oishi, for his part, ignored his partner's question. "Well done. I'll need to discuss it with some people first, but you're definitely above the rest of the trainees. You'll probably join those of us on active duty straightaway. For the time being, though, you'll have to stay with the other rookies."

Ryoma smirked confidently. The test hadn't been as hard as he'd anticipated. When trying to ambush his father, it usually involved at least another three or four feints.

The hair at the back of his neck suddenly prickled. Ryoma turned, glancing about the yard for the hidden watcher. All he caught was a glimpse of brown before an enthusiastic Eiji draped himself over his shoulders, nattering on about all the great missions they'd be doing from now on.

It was hard to shake his paranoia completely. Even if Seigaku was an uncommonly trusting group of ninja, things had been going a little bit too smoothly so far.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I am in a fantastic mood at the moment, so here's the next chapter.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 2

* * *

The next few days were rather uneventful. Ryoma went on one short mission with Momoshiro – a routine delivery that he suspected was to test his stealth – but was otherwise just left to spar with other ninja and settle in.

It surprised him how simple it had been to integrate with the clan so far, actually. Momoshiro had apparently appointed himself as 'big brother'; showing him to his room, explaining who everyone was, and detailing the usual flow of their missions and work. They were all things that Ryoma could have figured out on his own, but he was hardly going to complain about having information handed to him on a silver platter, even if he _was_ still highly suspicious about Lady Ryuuzaki giving him such carefree admittance to her old clan. Despite everything appearing normal and okay, his common sense continued to tell him that unconventional though these people might be, they were still ninja and thus this was surely all an elaborate trap.

That said, Seigaku was easily the strangest ninja clan he'd ever seen. Granted, Ryoma hadn't seen that many, having essentially always been doing solo work at his father's behest until this oddball mission. But he doubted it would make a difference.

"And that's Sakuno, Lady Ryuuzaki's granddaughter," Momoshiro pointed out. He was systemically naming everybody in the training yard. It was mostly just trainees at that time of day, half of who were unabashedly staring at him.

Ryoma threw a disinterested glance at her. Her long auburn hair was tied back into two braids. If he squinted, he could maybe see a bit of resemblance to the old woman. She squeaked and blushed at his gaze, turning back to the training dummies. "What's she doing?"

"Eh, she comes here every now and again to try and learn some basics. She's made friends with one of the girls that works in the kitchen, I think," he dismissed. It was easy to see why Momoshiro was so quick to write her off. At even a quick glance it was obvious she was rather lacking in confidence and terribly uncoordinated. Ryoma recalled from his father's admittedly skeletal debriefing that Lady Ryuuzaki had once been the head of Seigaku clan herself many years ago, but apparently after marrying the daimyo she no longer cared for the ninja lifestyle, and so did not earnestly seek to train her offspring. Sakuno's presence there was likely an indulgence. The woman's comments when she'd interviewed him suggested as much.

"That's the Viper; he's another one of the main squad," Momoshiro continued, gesturing towards a scowling ninja wearing a black bandanna in the corner of the training yard. The trainees were all giving him a wide berth. "Can you guess what his weapon of choice is?" The tall ninja chuckled to himself at that.

Ryoma cast a critical eye over the so-called 'Viper'. He heard that some ninja liked to train and use snakes as their primary tools, but had never actually met a snake tamer before. His face was scarier than what he'd expect from someone of that speciality, but then again maybe he was just basing that on the assumption that it was mostly women who used snakes - able to hide their pets easily in their long sleeves without arousing suspicion.

An abnormally tall ninja wearing thick glasses approached the Viper with an envelope in hand. Odd – it was normally only scholars who wore glasses. "And that's Inui, he's our best spy," Momoshiro informed him. As though he could hear them, Inui looked in their direction and started striding purposefully their way.

"Momoshiro. Echizen," he greeted. Ryoma didn't bother being offended at the skipped introduction. If the man really was their best spy it stood to reason that introductions were unnecessary.

"Well-informed as always," Momoshiro commented with a loud laugh.

Inui adjusted his glasses. "Of course. There is much talk about the new member in our ranks who easily defeated our best team."

Ryoma scoffed at that. "They were holding back."

That earned him a contemplative glance from the spy. "Hmm. Then the same is true for you, if you were aware of it."

Ryoma just shrugged.

"I shall be honest, Echizen. I have distressingly little information on you, and Lady Ryuuzaki was not forthcoming with information in regards to why she wanted you to join the clan. I was hoping you could fill me in on some of your history."

This was dangerous territory, but it would be safer to cooperate. Ryoma shrugged again.

Taking that as permission, Inui asked, "Who trained you?"

"My father."

"You didn't learn from a dojo, or as part of a clan?"

"No."

"Who is your father?"

Names might compromise the mission. And honestly, Ryoma was a little embarrassed of the old man. "Used to be a mercenary, I think. He knows Ryuuzaki-daimyo's wife somehow." It was apparently enough to satisfy Inui, who then moved on to the next topic.

"Your speciality?"

"Don't really have one."

"Interesting. Another all-rounder. Your previous mission experience?"

"I just said I didn't belong to a clan - the most I could ever do was take on a couple of independent jobs for travelling merchants," Ryoma lied. It struck him as a trap question.

Inui seemed pleased by that answer. "Of course."

"Inui-senpai, was there any other reason you came to talk to us?" Momoshiro interjected.

"Ah, yes." The spy handed them each an envelope. "A mission. A valuable item was stolen from one of the daimyo's estates. It has been requested we retrieve it."

"If it's so valuable, why wasn't it better protected?" Ryoma asked, leafing through the contents of the envelope. It just contained a basic description and general mission intelligence. Seemed to be a fancy piece of jewellery. Expensive, certainly, but not something one would normally use ninja to retrieve. It was an unnecessary risk and waste of resources.

"It was suitably protected, but it was stolen by another ninja clan."

"Oh ho, anyone dangerous?" Momoshiro asked.

"Gyokurin. We won't need everyone to deal with them. It'll be you, Echizen, Oishi, Eiji, and Kawamura. Kaidoh will be following as backup."

Gyokurin was a small, local clan that survived by avoiding stepping on too many toes. Ryoma was confident he could have performed the retrieval by himself, but wouldn't be surprised if Seigaku was using this as a chance to gauge his skill in real combat. That suspicion was all but confirmed when Inui continued, "It won't be a stealth mission. We're intending to send a strong message to Gyokurin that these sorts of actions won't be tolerated."

Momoshiro scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guessed that with Kawamura coming along. When do we leave?"

"At sundown. Meet at the gates. If you'll excuse me, I need to find Eiji to inform him as well." Inui stalked past them, leaving the training grounds.

Momoshiro peered at the sky. "Hmm, that's not a lot of time. I guess we'd better go get ready. You need any extra equipment?"

"I brought my own."

"Right. Hey, I'll show you where all the equipment is stored anyway. Ninja in the main squad can help themselves to it anytime."

"I'm not in the main squad yet," Ryoma pointed out.

Momoshiro waved it off. "You will be. Heck, you're already doing missions with us. They're probably just dragging their feet with making it official."

A quick detour showed him where the storage room for weapons were, and where Inui and Kaidoh kept their poisons. Ryoma retired to his own quarters – a room shared by four trainees – to fetch some extra shuriken and wire. His kodachi would probably be enough for this mission, but many fights with the old man gave him the habit of hiding as many tricks up his sleeves as possible. It was a habit that frequently saved his life.

He arrived at the gates just as the sun was setting. The buildings were bathed in a warm rosy glow. The normally pleasing colour seemed ominous prior to a mission. Everyone else was already present, clad in shades of black and dark blue. "Cutting it a bit close, Echizen!" Momoshiro called. Ryoma just tugged his mask up over his face in response.

"Hoi hoi, ready to go Ochibi?" Eiji asked, bouncing over to him. For whatever reason, the redhead had apparently taken a bit of a liking to him.

Ryoma took a quick stock of his comrades. There were two he didn't recognise. "I'm Kawamura," one of the strangers greeted him. "You must be the new recruit. Echizen, right?"

He nodded. This Kawamura _looked_ tough – his muscles were obvious even through his dark garb – but his demeanour and tone seemed far too gentle and sweet for the battlefield.

"Saaa, nice to meet you," the other stranger said congenially. Even though he bore a pleasant smile, Ryoma's instincts went on immediate alert. He took a reflexive step away, fingers positively itching for a weapon.

"Kaidoh?" he asked warily.

"I'm afraid not. He's over there," the smiling ninja indicated with a gesture. Ryoma spied the Viper leaning against the gates wearing a scowl. Kaidoh must have been his real name. "I'm Fuji. I'm just here to see everyone off. And I sort of wanted to see this remarkable new ninja that everybody is so interested in for myself. Please don't pay me any attention."

Ryoma didn't relax. How could this Fuji really 'see' him if he hadn't yet opened his eyes? Or was he blind? A ninja who relied solely on his eyes was a ninja quickly dead, but even so…

"Stop it Fuji, you're making him uncomfortable," Oishi chided, and then turned to Ryoma with a smile. "Fuji is our specialist in psychological warfare."

Ryoma made a mental note to keep a careful eye on this Fuji person. He projected an aura of intelligence and knowledge, and next to Inui would probably be the most likely person to discover his true intentions. "Nice to meet you," he offered warily, adjusting his facemask to make sure it was properly on. It wouldn't make a difference, but it made him feel a little better.

Fuji's smile widened a little, but he didn't otherwise respond. "You'd best be moving out if you want to be home by a reasonable time tonight. Good luck everyone."

Ryoma didn't relax until he was out of sight. Stranger and stranger ninja continued to just pop out of the woodwork at Seigaku. They were an odd bunch, too, and younger than most ninja in active service. Most of the ones he'd met so far were still straddling the line between adolescence and adulthood, though Ryoma reluctantly acknowledged he was hardly one to talk; he was barely of age himself.

Oishi gave them a quick briefing on the mission, and then they set out as a unit, silently darting through trees. Their target was about an hour away at a steady jog, though it took a bit longer as they slowed their pace to avoid detection.

The object Gyokurin had stolen was in the residence of a rich merchant - their current client. Obviously whomever Gyokurin served didn't pay them enough if they were taking on these sorts of contracts. The building featured an ornamental tiled roof and long wooden verandas on all sides, but was utterly lacking in any real defensive features – the wall surrounding the property was so low that even a farmer could scale it if properly motivated. Two ninja were standing in plain sight. Careful observation yielded another lingering in the shadows. Inui's intelligence pegged five of them at the residence, so the remaining two were likely inside.

Oishi made a series of hand signals. He and Eiji crept forward, while the rest of them remained back.

"They're going in by themselves?" Ryoma whispered; his words partially muffled by black fabric. He had not yet learned all of Seigaku's signals.

"Just watch," Momoshiro assured him. "Like Inui said, Oishi and Eiji make the best team. They can get anything done."

Ryoma stood back and watched from the shadows. The pair darted through the trees, circling in towards the unsuspecting pair of ninja. At some unseen signal, they leapt forward as one – Oishi with a long blade and Eiji with a hail of darts and kunai. The shower of projectiles glinted in the moonlight like silver rain.

The two Gyokurin ninja barely had a chance to react. They made a good effort, but they were clearly outclassed. Ryoma spared a moment to be mildly impressed. Eiji looked like he possessed the agility, speed, and talent for the unexpected movements that were requisite for a great ninja, but upon first impression Oishi seemed more like he ought to be managing the clan's paperwork rather than participating in missions. His brief test against the pair hadn't changed that opinion, but watching them work together like this revealed hidden depths to their skills.

Drawn by the battle, the hidden Gyokurin ninja attempted to join the fray. That was Kawamura's cue. He charged into the fight with a bellowing war cry.

Upon quick assessment, Ryoma decided that Kawamura should have been a samurai instead of a ninja. He had monstrous strength, and amazing skill in hand-to-hand combat, but he possessed almost no stealth - especially when engaging in aforementioned combat, turning him from a respectful, soft-spoken ninja to some sort of devil on the battlefield. The transformation occurring before his eyes was remarkable. The meek Kawamura was alternating between throwing punches and firebombs with great gusto.

Kawamura's shouting drew the remaining two ninja from indoors. "It's our turn!" Momoshiro whispered. "Let's go!" He dropped from the trees, and Ryoma scrambled to follow.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. The world sharpened into focus as he drew his blade, ears picking up the faint whistle of the steel as clearly as birdsong. The hilt of his kodachi felt light in his hands, and the fresh scent of earth upturned from Momoshiro's thundering footsteps was sweet in his nostrils. Golden eyes zeroed in on the shorter of the two ninja – Momoshiro was already making a beeline for the other one – cataloguing every tiny detail of their appearance and effortlessly picking out the weapons hidden in their clothes.

The steel of his blade caught the moonlight, leaving a silver arc as it descended upon his victim. The Gyokurin ninja hastily parried, his blade ringing at the impact. Ryoma stepped around past the blade, already moving for a second strike, then a third. His opponent faltered under his speed. His reflexes were good to be keeping up with the younger ninja, but his swordsmanship was comparatively clumsy. He knew it, too.

Ryoma tilted his head to the side. A shuriken sailed harmlessly past his ear. "Hey, _I'm_ your opponent!" Momoshiro yelled, clearly miffed that his target had time enough to interfere in someone else's fight.

Couldn't his colleague fight more quietly? Ryoma leant back to avoid the sweep of a blade, rested his hand on the ground and flipped backwards, kicking his enemy soundly on the jaw. It made a satisfying _crack_. He darted forward again. The Gyokurin ninja, dazed and starting to panic, tried to turn and run.

He wasn't getting away. Ryoma jerked his wrist, and the wire that had been stealthily wound around the ninja's ankle during his back flip tightened. His opponent toppled to the ground with a grunt. In the space of an eye blink Ryoma was poised above him, and rammed his kodachi into his shoulder.

The cry of pain distracted the Gyokurin ninja's partner, giving Momoshiro a chance to disable his own opponent with one well-placed punch. As his enemy dropped to the ground unconscious, Momoshiro glanced over at him, cracking his knuckles. "Ha, finished already? You're fast."

"Hn." Ryoma withdrew his blade, his opponent whimpering beneath him. It bothered him to just leave things there – it felt sort of untidy – but their orders were to teach Gyokurin a lesson, not lay waste to their clan. Killing off their members would spawn grudges, whereas leaving them beaten and alive would create respect and fear. "The others?"

"They're still finishing up by the looks of it. We'd better finish the mission." Momoshiro moved to enter the house.

"Momo-senpai!"

"Huh?" he asked, pausing just before the steps to the entrance.

"There's a trip wire right in front of you, and a loose floorboard right in front of that."

Swearing, Momoshiro backtracked and sidestepped the traps. Ryoma rolled his eyes and followed. Thanks to Inui's floor plans – Seigaku's spy was apparently quite thorough – it didn't take long to recover the daimyo's precious trinket. The rest of the team met up with them as they exited the building.

"Got it?" Eiji asked, hopping from foot to foot. Momoshiro lobbed it to the redhead, who squealed with delight and caught it. Oishi looked like he was about to have a heart attack at their careless handling of such an expensive object.

"The rest of Gyokurin?" Momoshiro asked.

"We managed them okay," Kawamura reported modestly. Ryoma raised an eyebrow, observing the aftermath. You could almost recreate the entire battle just by looking at the path of the carnage. Small fires were still blazing on the sooty grass.

"Right, good work everyone. Let's move out before Gyokurin can send reinforcements," Oishi ordered.

They retreated as a unit back into the trees. Ryoma felt his senses start to dull as the adrenaline rush from the battle receded. It had been his first real fight against a ninja other than his father for some time, and his first team mission ever. It felt surprisingly good. The camaraderie and shared high of a successful mission buzzed in his veins. He'd expected that they would drag him down, but Seigaku's ninja had proven to be of a high calibre indeed. Maybe not quite as good as him yet, but after seeing them in action Ryoma was keen to test his skills against them. He'd be demanding a proper round against Oishi and Eiji, too; after witnessing them on the battlefield, it was blindingly obvious that they hadn't even tried during his test.

"So, what did you think of your first team mission?" Momoshiro asked when they arrived back at the compound.

"Heh. It was interesting. Seigaku's got some pretty strong ninja," Ryoma remarked idly.

"Oh, just wait until you meet our leader," Momoshiro assured him, sticking his chest out a little proudly. "He's the strongest of all of us."

That was reassuring. Wait… '_he_'?


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Also, for those who are interested, I believe Akkadia is doing a sequel to The Dispossession of Echizen Ryoma. I'm not sure if anything has been posted yet, but those who were unhappy with the ending, keep your eyes open.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 3

* * *

Ryoma spent the next three days after the mission mulling over Momoshiro's words. It had been a mistake, right? He must have misheard.

Except that his ears were _never_ wrong. Maybe his comrade had misspoken. That seemed quite plausible. That _must_ be the case. He was completely doomed otherwise. None of his research had prepared him for _that _eventuality.

What if he had to seduce some dirty old pervert? If the leader of Seigaku was anything like his father he might have to kill himself.

He spent several days trying to discover some more about this mysterious leader, but he was conspicuously difficult to find. Either he was always absent from the compound, or spent most of his time inside the central building where the main squad lived. Ryoma thought he had probably pinpointed his living quarters, but didn't dare keep vigil on them, lest he be noticed and his intentions thrown into suspicion. For the very same reason he couldn't ask any of the other ninja too many questions about their leader, either.

It made for an anxious couple of days. Ryoma was half of the mind to go to his father and demand he call the whole mission off. But if he failed to complete a mission, the old man would never let him hear the end of it.

There was no choice. He'd just have to bide his time and get more information.

Ryoma threw himself into his training as a distraction. While he was better balanced than most of Seigaku's main squad, it slightly irked him that Kikumaru had demonstrated a small advantage in speed, and both Momoshiro and Kawamura dwarfed him in brute strength. It weighed heavily on his mind that if his mission objectives were discovered, the clan might turn on him. Improvement was necessary.

Training apparently wasn't to happen that day, though. Ryoma only just arrived at the training grounds when the alarm was sounded.

"What's going on?" he asked, snagging Momoshiro as he darted past.

"Echizen!" The tall ninja looked hassled. "Good, I was looking for you! High level alert! A Gyokurin ninja is inside the compound!"

What? "Their target?"

"We don't know! Oishi suspects revenge. Fuji just found the two guards on the gate unconscious. We're supposed to kill the intruder on sight. The rest of us are handling the outer perimeter. You join the others searching the inner buildings!" He didn't stay to give any more information than that, hurrying on his way.

Mind racing furiously, Ryoma contemplated what little he knew about the situation. Gyokurin ninja were invading Seigaku's stronghold. Clearly it was a suicide mission. The only motivation _would_ be revenge – the item they'd retrieved was already back in the hands of the daimyo. For revenge, who would be the most likely target?

_The leader_.

Oh no they didn't. Ryoma had a mission to complete, and he outright refused to let some third-rate small time ninja kill _his_ target.

Putting on a burst of speed, Ryoma headed directly for the central building. Wind whistled past his ears, drowning out the snapshots of calls from other ninja.

It took only seconds to reach the courtyard next to the inner building. Alighting on a tree branch, his eyes scanned the clearing. A shadow, movement. A black-clad figure was running for the building. Ryoma's eyes widened at the sight of small barrel tucked underneath his arm. Gunpowder?!

Ryoma dropped to the ground. He wouldn't be fast enough. He let three shuriken fly. Two pelted harmlessly off armour hidden underneath the cloth, while the third sank into the left thigh. The ninja stumbled, but didn't stop. Panicked, he sent another spray of them at the barrel itself. Maybe he could reduce the size of the explosion? They thudded into the thin wood, black powder beginning to trickle out in small rivers from the holes they made. The ninja swore.

Then the shoji blew open.

Ryoma flipped backwards out of the line of fire purely on reflex. At first all his eyes managed to catch was a blur of brown and black and silver dashing into the courtyard. His breath hitched as he realised that the blur belonged to a person.

A kodachi swept upwards in a shining arc. The barrel of gunpowder went flying, then cracked open mid-flight, scattering the dangerous black sand across the ground. The Gyokurin ninja stumbled backwards, clutching at a bleeding shoulder. He went to draw a sword, but hadn't even removed it from his sheathe before it was knocked from his grasp with a well-placed kick.

It was amazing. Ryoma found himself holding his breath at the display of grace and skill. He hadn't seen such control and finesse from any ninja other than his father. Every movement was so economical, so _precise_…

Gyokurin's invader let out a gurgled cry as a blade plunged through his throat. He slumped bonelessly to the ground, and the courtyard was still again.

Ryoma stared. Was this one of Seigaku's ninja? He was undoubtedly of the main squad – someone of his skill _must_ be - but this was the first time Ryoma had seen him. His posture was straight, and despite just disposing of an enemy not a single hair was out of place. Dark brown eyes surveyed the surroundings from behind a pair of thin, wire-framed glasses.

"You are Echizen Ryoma," he stated without preamble. Ryoma started, not expecting to be addressed. The man's voice was deep and smooth, and his accent cultured. He was clearly well educated. That might explain the glasses.

"Yes," he replied succinctly.

"Hn. Good work." Ryoma didn't see why on earth he should be complimented – all he'd done was slow the attacker down slightly. Fortunately, he was rescued from responding by the shuffle of approaching footsteps.

Oishi and Kikumaru burst onto the scene, out of breath. "Tezuka! There's…" Oishi trailed off when he noticed the body of the intruder lying in a growing pool of blood. "Oh."

Tezuka. Ryoma mentally filed the name away for reference. This was a ninja worth watching.

"Nyaaaa, we were too late. But Tezuka-buchou took care of it anyway!" Eiji exclaimed; a hand placed over his heart in relief.

"We expect nothing less of our leader," Oishi remarked, shoulders slumping. It was clear that he'd feared the worst.

"Some credit must go to Echizen for his assistance," Tezuka said, inclining his head slightly in Ryoma's direction. Clearly he was the humble sort – Ryoma didn't honestly think the outcome would have changed were he there or not.

That was when his mind furiously back-pedalled to Oishi and Eiji's last statements.

Wait… _this_ was the leader of Seigaku?

Shocked, Ryoma couldn't stop himself from staring. This was not what he'd been expecting _at all_. This Tezuka certainly possessed a commanding presence, but he was awfully young for a clan head. Granted, he was probably the oldest ninja Ryoma had seen at Seigaku so far, but that wasn't saying much.

"Still, that Gyokurin would send an assassin…" Oishi remarked, bending over the body to inspect it.

"It was a suicide run," Tezuka explained. "They were hoping to catch me off guard in a moment of carelessness. Get one of the trainees to clean up that gunpowder before someone sets it off accidentally."

"Right," Oishi agreed.

"And gather the main squad for a mission report," Tezuka ordered. "Echizen, you come too."

He bowed abruptly, mind racing. Oishi and Eiji dispersed to collect the rest of the main squad and to find some trainees to clean up the mess. Tezuka carefully cleaned the blade of his kodachi and then disappeared back inside the building as though he were a ghost. Given that the door was left open, Ryoma took it as an invitation to follow.

It was his first time inside the central building. It wasn't that unlike the rest of the buildings, although perhaps it was a bit larger, and the construction older. The room he entered was rather plain – there was some decorative panelling around the walls, but other than that the only feature was a low desk and several flat cushions for kneeling on. Perhaps this was Tezuka's office? Golden-brown eyes quickly picked out at least two hidden entrances to the room, and he suspected that there were many more. It was like being home again.

"I do not believe we were formally introduced. Tezuka Kunimitsu. I am the current captain of the Seigaku clan." The deep voice broke him abruptly out of his contemplation.

Ryoma bowed hastily. "Echizen Ryoma."

"Please, take a seat while we wait for the others to arrive."

He selected one of the cushions laid out and dropped to his knees on it. His heart thudded so loudly in his chest that he was certain the sound must be filling the whole room. The adrenaline from the battle hadn't quite worn off yet.

So this was the target. He was numb with shock, but fortunately training kicked in and kept the gears in his mind turning.

Okay. He'd been dreading some fat, ugly girl - simply because he knew that was something his father would find hilarious - but this wasn't so bad. Granted, the gender was completely wrong, thus nullifying a great deal of the rushed research he'd performed before starting the mission, but Tezuka was at least rather easy on the eyes. He had a finely muscled figure, broad shoulders, and though his countenance was stern, his dark brown eyes were rather magnetic. Ryoma's gaze lingered on the callused hands approvingly. Despite being clan head, he obviously still trained hard.

He probably ought to be using this opportunity to gather more information, or get himself into the captain's good graces, but Ryoma wound up sitting there observing the target in silence. Tezuka might not have been as bad as he'd imagined, but how was he supposed to seduce someone so _serious_? And why on earth did his father want him to? Tezuka was an excellent ninja, certainly, and Ryoma could already see from that one skirmish that he would be able to learn a lot from him, but a seduction? Surely there would be someone better suited to such a task.

Then again, maybe not. Seigaku's esteemed leader didn't seem like the sort who would consider entertaining a prostitute or even a geisha. Perhaps his father had attempted sending someone else before, and was trying a different tack. That possibility was annoyingly likely. Ryoma wished his father would actually _tell_ him these things for once so that he knew for sure.

Having met the target, he concluded that the purpose of the mission must either be for information or assassination. Most of the time such an approach was too risky to work, but it was probably the only weakness left available to exploit in such a ninja. Even a suicide run by Gyokurin hadn't left a mark. It would be necessary to get inside his guard first. Ryoma dismissed the thought, though. Speculating about the grander goals didn't matter when he hadn't even completed the initial objective.

Chatter in the hallway interrupted the serene silence. Ryoma sat up a little straighter as the rest of the main squad tumbled into the room.

"Tezuka, everyone's here," Oishi announced.

"Very well. Let us begin."

At those words, the rowdy bunch organised themselves into a loose circle, settling down and sitting at attention. It was rather remarkable how Tezuka could rein them in so quickly and efficiently. Then again, they _were_ professional ninja. It was just rather easy to forget with the way they acted sometimes.

"As you all know, a Gyokurin ninja broke into the compound today. I believe the intent was to destroy the central building with myself inside. The intruder has been apprehended and disposed of. Casualties?"

"Just the two who were on guard at the gate," Oishi promptly reported. "They were only knocked unconscious. Their injuries are minor."

Tezuka nodded to show he heard. "I gathered you here today as I suspect the attack was in revenge for our most recent mission. You are all familiar with what the mission parameters entailed. It was supposed to be a warning to Gyokurin, not a declaration of war. Was anyone killed in the mission?"

"We already submitted the report…" Oishi began.

"I would prefer to hear it directly from the horse's mouth."

"Oishi's and my opponents were just hit with darts, nya!" Eiji half-bounced on his knees. "I made extra sure they were only tipped with sedatives!"

"I beat him up pretty badly, but I don't think there was any permanent damage," Kawamura reported sheepishly.

"Knocked mine unconscious," Momoshiro added.

The others were looking to him now. "Sword through the shoulder. Wasn't fatal."

"It was likely injured pride, then," Fuji remarked. "Gyokurin has been struggling lately, right Inui?"

"Correct. The lord they serve is not particularly powerful, and allocates very few resources to them. They have been relying on work-for-hire to survive, but a series of contracts have gone badly. This latest loss of face may have irreparably tarnished their reputation. No one will hire mercenaries with such a high failure rate." Inui adjusted his glasses. "That said, I do not expect that they will further hostilities any longer. This latest attempt will show them that they are outmatched."

Tezuka mulled over these words briefly. "Very well then. Inui and Fuji, I want you to pay close attention to Gyokurin's movements over the next few days, just in case. Oishi, organise some extra patrols for the perimeter. We mustn't be careless. Dismissed."

The gathering dispersed, and Ryoma found himself back outside. He cast a glance at the sky. His father would be expecting a report sometime in the next couple of days. He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: This was asked by SnowMage, but in case others wanted to know too… as this chapter may suggest, I insert a lot of canon elements into this AU, but by no means expect it to follow canon elements religiously. I'll spoil it right now by saying there's no real Hyotei or Rikkai presence, so don't be getting your hopes up. ;)

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 4

* * *

"So boy, how goes the mission?"

"I have successfully made contact with the target."

The old man nodded. "Good, good." A leer. "What did you think?"

"I think you're crazy. I still don't see the point of the mission."

Nanjiroh rolled his eyes. "I _told_ you not to question the mission objectives."

Ryoma glared. Completing missions with so little information when he was deep in enemy territory was unnecessarily dangerous. Was this yet another elaborate test?

"How long do you think you'll need?" the old man asked eagerly.

"A lot longer. I only made contact three days ago," he responded dryly.

Nanjiroh pouted. It was so undignified. Ryoma couldn't help but compare him to Tezuka. When Tezuka discussed missions or clan business, he remained serious and focused. Actually, Tezuka was _always_ serious and focused. "Fine. Don't take too long, though. That's too boring."

His father's complaining was so tiresome. He tugged up his facemask. "I should start back. Someone might notice if I'm gone too long."

"Right, right." His father waved him off. "I expect progress next time, kiddo."

Scowling underneath the black fabric, Ryoma left the house. It was over two hours at a steady run back to Seigaku. These reports were an unnecessary risk, not to mention a giant waste of time. He _would_ accomplish the objective. Why his father wanted all the details for this mission was a mystery, especially since it didn't involve some curvy woman. Probably wanted to make fun of him.

Ryoma carefully crept back into the compound well after midnight, confident that the guards and patrols hadn't seen him. He didn't relax until he was back in his room, though. Stepping lightly so as not to wake his roommates, he pulled off his mask, relishing the liberating sensation of the cool night air on his face. Talking to his father was always so tiring. He couldn't relax for even an instant – there was no telling when the old man might attack and test his skills. Likewise, he could never resist looking for his own opportunities for an ambush either.

He slid under the warm futon covers, checked that his dagger and collection of shuriken was safely stashed beneath his pillow, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next few days were routine. The hours were either filled with training or trifling missions – usually delivering messages for the daimyo. Ryoma didn't mind this so much, as boring as it was, but it hadn't turned out to be at all conducive to furthering his own objectives.

It was a difficult situation. In order to seduce the captain, he needed to get closer. But getting face time with Tezuka was almost impossible - Seigaku's leader was somewhat reclusive, spending most of his time in conference with Lady Ryuuzaki or buried underneath paperwork. The only time the rest of the clan really saw him was during mission briefings and the occasional mealtime. He did accompany them on one delivery that brought them through Hyotei territory, but the journey was uneventful. Ryoma found himself disappointed. He sort of wanted to see Tezuka fight again.

Ryoma walked through the halls, contemplating heading towards the training ground. Some girl was walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. "Eep!" She'd frozen in place and was staring at him.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, wishing she'd hurry up and stop blocking the pathway.

"No-no… that is…"

That's right, he remembered this girl. "You're Lady Ryuuzaki's granddaughter, right?"

"Um, yes," she replied demurely, face burning a fierce red. "…I… that is… you can call me Sakuno. Your name?"

It was possibly the first time he'd come across someone in Seigaku that didn't already know his name. "Echizen Ryoma." He probably wouldn't have bothered replying if she weren't nobility. "What happened to your fingers?" he asked, spotting the numerous bandages adorning them.

Her face turned bright red. "I... um... Tomoka was teaching me how to cook..."

First she was trying her hand at being a kunoichi, and then a cook? Nobility were weird.

"Ochibi!" Kikumaru called as he darted down the hallway past them. "We've got another mission! Head to the briefing room!"

Ryoma came alert, quickly following and leaving the blushing girl behind without another thought. He still wasn't used to working in team missions, and would need to focus. It was going to be necessary to impress Tezuka if his overall objectives were to progress.

The rest of the main squad was already gathered. Quietly slipping into the room, Ryoma took a seat between Kaidoh and Oishi. Tezuka stood, and the chatter dissipated. He launched into the briefing without preamble. "Ryuuzaki-daimyo has requested an assassination. The brother-in-law of a neighbouring lord has claimed a significant piece of land to the east, and is contesting Ryuuzaki's ownership."

"A daimyo's relative…" Fuji murmured. "Will we be able to handle the repercussions?"

Inui stepped up. "We've assessed the risks. The intelligence I've gathered suggests that the marriage was not approved amongst the family. While it may sour relations, it is unlikely any reflexive counter-attacks will take place. So long as they keep cool heads, they will recognise that we are acting within acceptable boundaries and that a skirmish will not result in a favourable outcome for them."

"It's strange that he'd take such a risk, though," Oishi mused. "It's an awfully bold move to make without some serious support."

"Hired mercenaries?" Fuji asked.

"There is a high probability," Inui conceded. "This is why we're sending a significant force. Momoshiro, Tezuka and myself will remain behind, but the rest of you will be moving out tomorrow night."

"What?! But I-" Momoshiro started to say.

"You were injured while sparring against Kaidoh yesterday," Inui observed. "You're favouring your left ankle. You will be a liability, and slow the group down."

He went red and backed down, grumbling under his breath about 'the damn Viper'. Inui started going into more detail about the mission, describing the target, location and timeframe. It appeared that the target was a little paranoid and moved around a lot, which made tracking him difficult. It certainly made sense – even idiots didn't make designs on another daimyo's land without expecting trouble.

They finished the briefing quite late in the day. Ryoma lingered, hoping for an opportunity to talk to Tezuka, but it looked as though Fuji was bending his ear over something. He eventually gave up and returned to his room. There were weapons that needed to be sharpened and prepared for the mission, after all – he couldn't waste his time loitering around the captain. How annoying. It was difficult to further the overall mission when the more immediate ones Seigaku assigned him to kept taking precedence. This infiltration stuff was a lot of work.

Late the next evening, the team gathered by the gates and moved out. Ryoma was slightly put out by Momoshiro's absence. The lanky ninja was usually his partner, and while it still rankled him to partner with _anyone_, at least he was used to Momoshiro.

Fuji ran next to him as they darted through the trees. "Is the mask really necessary?"

Momoshiro would also be a useful shield against this man. "It's standard for night-time missions. I'm surprised no one else bothers with one." His face was slightly paler than average, and would stand out as a beacon in the darkness. Why did Fuji even care? Ryoma had not yet seen his eye colour.

"Saaa, Kaidoh wears a black bandanna to cover his hair most of the time, but Eiji's the only other one who bothers. Personally, I think he just likes the look."

Ryoma glanced over. The redhead was currently mask-less, but it would make sense to cover up that bright hair on stealth missions. It was true that an accomplished ninja wouldn't really gain that much more from a mask, but the thin fabric was protection from more than searching eyes. It hid the frown at the edges of his mouth from his teammates, just for starters.

"Fuji, shhh, we're almost there!" Oishi hushed them.

They fell back into silence, focus shifting back onto the mission. Slowly, the trees began to thin and the ground became rockier. The cover soon disappeared altogether, giving way to a sizeable field surrounding a large, opulent residence. They halted their progress just beyond the tree line, taking stock of the situation while they were still safely hidden from sight. The property was bounded by a tall stone wall, with large wooden gates serving as the only entrance on to the property – not that it made a difference to them. The building itself was also rather lavish, featuring a multi-tier tiled roof. The outer walls were all solid pine – something of an anomaly in the area – but a warm orange glow could be seen framing a number of windows.

In the wash of the glow, shadows drifted around the house.

"It's Fudomine!" Eiji whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" The lively redhead seemed insulted at the question of his eyesight's reliability.

"And here we are without Momo, Inui and Tezuka," Oishi cursed. "Fuji, Eiji, go run reconnaissance around the perimeter."

With a quick nod, the pair split apart, circling the property. For several tense minutes the team lay silently in wait. Ryoma strained his eyes in the darkness, but none of the shadows surrounding the building changed their pattern of movement. Their presence was still secret.

In a whisper of wind, Fuji reappeared by their side, followed swiftly by Eiji. "It doesn't look like they brought Tachibana or Ibu with them," Fuji reported. "That means we outnumber them 6 to 5, and they're missing their two strongest members. We can probably break through with the people we have."

"We shouldn't underestimate them," Oishi warned. "They managed to get the better of Hyotei at least once, after all."

"What do you propose we do then? You're in charge," Fuji reminded him. "Should we abort the mission?"

Oishi chewed on his lower lip for a minute. "...We don't know when we'll be able to get another shot at this guy. If he's hired Fudomine for protection..."

"So we're going, then?" Kawamura asked.

Oishi nodded reluctantly. "Yes. Okay, we'll go in pairs. Fuji and Taka, you try to sneak in from the back first. Eiji and I will go from the west. Echizen and Kaidoh, you go through the front. We'll try and do this quickly and quietly - the best way would be to complete the mission before Fudomine realises we're here. If it's already too late, they'll be less inclined to fight."

There were murmurs of agreement, then everyone dispersed. Kaidoh glared at him. He was probably cranky at being lumped with the 'rookie'. "You'd better not slow me down, brat."

"Che, same to you senpai."

Kaidoh stalked past him. They hugged the shadows of the outer wall. The main gates into the complex were closed, but that was of little consequence - they were easily climbed. Kaidoh frowned at him, and waved him back as one of Fudomine's ninja went running past. There was yelling coming from the rear of the house - it sounded very much like Kawamura. Obviously he and Fuji had been seen and were now caught in combat. The soft orange glow leaking from the windows vanished, and the weak silvery sheen of moonlight took precedence once again.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Ryoma caught sight of a glint of metal – Oishi and Eiji had also found their path blocked by another two of Fudomine's ninjas.

"Fssshhhuuu, better move fast brat. Looks like it's going to be up to us," Kaidoh hissed at him. Ryoma didn't respond, but sped up a little anyway. Small tufts of grass were kicked up in the air and whisked away by the breeze as they headed full speed for the house.

Ryoma abruptly skidded to a stop when a shadow detached itself from the house and dropped in front of them. The first thing he noticed was the shockingly bright red hair – rather close to the same colour that Eiji sported - that left only one of his eyes visible.

He didn't have time to notice anything else, as he was drawing steel to deflect the dagger thrown his way. A gasp caught in his throat when a mere second after the dagger went flying the redhead was in his face, striking with his blade. Ryoma stepped back several times in succession, parrying quick blows and ignoring convincing feints.

The ninja leapt backwards abruptly. Faint hissing reached Ryoma's ears only moments before gleaming white fangs struck through the darkness towards the redhead. A viper. The snake reared up, ready to strike again. Their opponent eyed it warily.

Then the ninja was moving again, dancing to the side as the snake struck once more. The venomous fangs were only a finger's width away from grazing skin. Even the quickest of ninjas had trouble keeping up with the speed of a snake's strike.

"Hey!" Kaidoh barked at him. "I can handle this guy. You finish the mission!"

Ryoma was dubious - this ninja was _fast_ - but the mission came first. They weren't here to fight Fudomine, after all. None of them needed to win; they just needed to stall their opponents long enough for one of their number of get through.

He didn't hesitate, and darted for the doorway. Surprisingly, the red-haired ninja Kaidoh was facing off against didn't make a move to stop him. That was a little suspicious - enough to slow his steps so that he could check for traps and trip wire. The dark hallway was devoid of any tricks, though. Maybe they had moved the target already?

If so, there was no point in fighting at all, unless it was to buy time to let the target escape. Ryoma picked up his pace. He had never failed a mission, and did not have any intention of starting now. Silently darting through the house, he slid back door after door, checking each of the rooms. They continued to come up empty. This was taking too long...

A muffled murmuring reached his ears.

Senses alert, Ryoma paused, then tiptoed lightly towards the source of the noise. It led him to a rather luxurious bedroom, with a large futon pushed to the side and embroidered pillows piled up along the walls. Bright golden eyes carefully scanned the dark room. Fudomine had been smart to douse the lights when they'd attacked, but it wouldn't be enough to blindfold him.

There was whimpering coming from the corner, a pathetically weak keening sound. He zeroed in on it, immediately identifying the target - a portly man with a thin moustache. "Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me."

Ryoma didn't acknowledge the whispered begging. He unsheathed his kodachi with his right hand, and crept towards the target.

"You really shouldn't proceed any further," a voice mumbled to his right.

Ryoma whirled; steel bared and eyes darting about the shadows. There was a whisper of movement near his left flank. He flung out his hand, sending a shiny thread of metal whipping through the darkness.

A blade arced through the air and the thread was cut in two. Ryoma dropped the wire with a frown – it was almost useless once severed from the weighted tip. Annoying. Even talented ninja had difficulty cutting such flexible wire; it would sooner wrap around their swords and leave them easily divested of their weapons.

A pale, solemn face framed with dark, straight hair emerged from the gloom. Ryoma took a step back, quickly analysing his position. There weren't supposed to be any more of them - he was supposed to have a clean run to the target. But then, what sort of ninja would they be if they didn't keep at least one card up their sleeve? "Who are you?"

"Ibu Shinji. I don't recall seeing you before. You're awfully young. Are you sure you're a ninja? What's your name?"

The guy was awfully chatty for a person who was presumably about to engage in battle; although Ryoma had the suspicion that half of those muttered comments were not supposed to be said out loud. He didn't respond. What kind of idiot ninja so willing shared his name with his enemies? Maybe it was an alias. Although... he recalled Fuji mentioning an Ibu as well as a Tachibana.

No way. Was this guy the second-strongest ninja in Fudomine?

"That's so rude. You're supposed to introduce yourself after someone gives you their name. I suppose in our line of work it's not recommended, and the captain is always telling me to be more careful with it, but what does it matter anyway? If he dies he won't be able to tell anyone else my name, and then…" The mumbling became unintelligible at this point.

Ryoma eyed the target still cowering in the corner.

Four sets of spiralling stars whizzed through the darkness. Ibu's mumbling abruptly cut out, blade flashing through the air to intercept them. His eyes widened when the path of shuriken suddenly _turned_. "What the-?"

He was fast – not as fast as the redhead from before, but impressively quick none-the-less. Leaning backwards, he avoided the curving path of the shruiken, and batted the second one out of the way with the hilt of his sword. "That's not going to be enough to-" His voice cut off when the shuriken he'd just turned aside boomeranged back towards him. "How-?"

Underneath his mask, a smirk tugged at the edges of Ryoma's lips.

Ibu whirled, blade blazing in an elaborate dance around him. One by one the shuriken spun wildly out of control, thudding harmlessly into the walls. The last hit only a hand's width above the man whimpering in the corner, eliciting a short squeak of fear.

"I see. Shuriken attached to wires," Ibu remarked dully. "You're a tricky one."

Ryoma's smirk grew. Even with all of that, his opponent had only picked up a few scratches. It wouldn't even slow him down. This was going to be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Action scenes, gah!

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 5

* * *

The ring of metal striking metal echoed through the darkness. Barely discernible to the average eye, two silhouettes danced in the shadows, advancing and retreating in a deadly choreography.

"You're better than I expected, but it's not going to be enough. Fudomine has fought hard to be taken seriously," Ibu muttered.

Ryoma resisted the urge to tell his enemy to shut up and concentrate on fighting. For all he knew the running commentary was a perfectly valid distraction tactic. It wouldn't work on him, however. Ibu stepped forward, foot resting on one of the discarded pieces of wire. Ryoma snatched it from the ground and jerked it, temporarily throwing his opponent's balance out. He attacked, but Ibu recovered in time to parry. The dance resumed again. The target continued to make frantic sounds of fear and worry at their every movement.

Two steps forward, slash, a step back, parry, throw a shuriken, dodge a foot. They were practically running on automatic now, exchanging blows while both combatants searched for a weakness. Ryoma faltered briefly under the force of a strike. Forget waiting for an opening – he'd _create_ one.

Ryoma spun on one foot and slashed downwards heavily, knocking Ibu's kodachi to the side and leaving him open. Before he could take advantage of his opponent's precarious position, Ibu flung a hail of needles towards him. Eyes widening, Ryoma aborted his attack and threw himself to the side, avoiding all but four of the dangerous projectiles.

"Geh." The breathy grunt was the first sound he'd allowed himself all battle. The needles pierced the flesh of his right arm and shoulder. They'd been thrown at quite a close range, and were buried in deep. He grit his teeth and tugged them out with a wince, promptly flinging them back at their owner. Ibu dodged them easily. Blood dripped to the floor. How annoying. At least they hadn't hit anything vital.

Darting forward, he swung the kodachi horizontally, and frowned when his timing was a bit late, forcing him back on to the defensive. The blade wobbled slightly in his grasp.

"You don't have a chance. You're finished," Ibu mumbled, pressing his attack. Ryoma barely parried in time, throwing a dagger – he'd finally run out of shuriken – to buy time to get back his balance. He'd barely caught his breath before Ibu was attacking again. Did the other ninja become faster all of a sudden? His movements didn't look any different to before, but his arm was having trouble keeping up.

Metal clashed once more, and Ryoma's kodachi dropped to the floor with a clatter.

_Move_, he willed his hand, but all he could manage was to twitch his fingers. His mind flashed back to the needles. Were they poisoned tipped, or did Ibu just hit a pressure point?

Ibu's sword was swinging around again as though in slow motion. Golden eyes tracked its path, adrenaline surging through his system. His right arm hung uselessly by his side. _Respond._ The sword descended. _RESPOND!_

His arm refused. Panicking, Ryoma threw himself backwards; eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the blow. The tip of the blade grazed his eye, leaving a stinging sensation blossoming in its wake. Cool air brushed across his face. His mask had been ripped too.

Time started running at normal speed again. Rolling out of range, Ryoma tried to force his eyes open. Only the right would work – the left was blurred with blood and even the act of trying to open it left him gasping for breath at the stab of pain and closing it involuntarily. Blearily, he tried to focus on the opponent with only his right eye. He was standing on the other side of the room, blood dripping from the point of his sword.

"Surrender," Ibu ordered in a dull voice. "Your right arm is useless and you're limited to one eye. You cannot fight any longer."

Ryoma just smirked, and picked up his kodachi with his left hand. "Che, you've overlooked something rather important."

Ibu paused, and eyeballed him warily. "Overlooked something? I haven't overlooked anything."

Ryoma dashed forward suddenly. Ibu was barely able to parry in time, and was quickly driven back under a flurry of blows. "...What?!"

Ryoma grinned. "I'm actually left-handed." With a deft flick of his wrist, Ibu's sword went flying. Ryoma took the opportunity while the other ninja was left off-balance, kicking him into the wall. Another quick flick of the wrist sent his last kunai speeding through the air. It struck the target between the eyes. The whimpering ceased, and a body slumped to the floor.

_Mission accomplished._

He didn't waste time waiting for Ibu to regain his wits. Ryoma ran out of the room and back down the hallway, Kaidoh meeting him halfway. "Fssshuuuu, what-"

"I've completed the mission. Let's get out of here," he reported. Kaidoh abruptly turned on his heel and followed after him. Once in the yard, they signalled to Oishi and Eiji, who similarly retreated.

Fudomine didn't follow; instead running into the house, no doubt to check on their comrades and client. Just to be safe, they didn't halt their retreat until they were halfway back to base.

"Report!" Oishi snapped out. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"Everyone's here. The mission was a success," Kaidoh reported, slanting him a brief glance. "Though there were some injuries."

"Ochibi!" Eiji gasped.

"Echizen!" Oishi echoed, looking like he was on the verge of a heart attack. "You're bleeding! Your eye-!"

"It doesn't hurt." A lie. It stung like hell. And his right arm was still dragging uselessly. Best to direct their attention to someone else. "Kawamura?" He was cradling his wrist.

"Took a blow for me." Fuji reported in a cold voice, though his expression was full of warmth and affection for his comrade.

"It's not serious," he protested.

"I'm okay!" Eiji cheerily announced without being asked. "Little tired, though."

"Fsshhhhuuuu." The others seemed to take that as Kaidoh's admission of being fine, even though Ryoma could spy grazes and bruises through several tears on the sleeves and knees of his clothing.

Oishi turned his attention back to him. "Echizen… Are you sure you can manage until we get back to base?"

Ryoma straightened, hoping his paralysed arm wasn't too obvious. Momoshiro had told him plenty of stories about the vice-captain's mothering, but it was his first time experiencing the full brunt of it. He made to tug his mask up, before remembering that it was ripped, and so pulled it off instead – it wasn't any use flapping in the wind like that. "I'll manage. Let's just get going."

Oishi looked like he wanted to argue, but there was still a risk of Fudomine tracking them. It would be best to make it home as quickly as possible. "Okay. Let's get going." They started running again. Kaidoh and Oishi ran rather closely alongside him, and Ryoma did his best to hide his irritation at the action. He knew his pace was lagging, but they slowed their own steps to stay with him.

It was annoying taking such injuries from a relatively unknown ninja. There hadn't been any danger of losing the battle, but those needles… Ryoma was still worried that they might have been poison-tipped, but given that the numbness of his arm hadn't extended past his shoulder, he didn't see the point of drawing anyone's attention to it. It would just make the vice-captain fret. If it was poison, there wasn't anything that could be done until they made it back to base. He grit his teeth, and kept running. It wasn't a pleasant thought to entertain.

The sun was rising by the time they made it back to the compound. Ryoma was feeling rather dizzy at that point, and extremely keen on getting some sleep. The mission had been a lot harder than anticipated. There was some merit to the rumours about the Fudomine clan's strength after all.

"I'll go make the report to Tezuka-" Oishi started saying.

"No need." The captain approached them at the gate, Inui walking alongside him. Dispassionate brown eyes swept over the group, lingering briefly on Kawamura and halting on him. "There were problems."

"We ran into Fudomine. But we managed to complete the mission," Oishi reported.

Tezuka nodded. "You can tell me the details in the infirmary."

Ryoma was already starting to drift towards the trainees' quarters, but soon found himself being prodded in the direction of the central building by Oishi and Eiji. "Eh, but I'm not-"

"You're coming to infirmary with us," Oishi said firmly.

"Don't worry! Oishi's uncle was a doctor! He'll fix you up straight away," Eiji reassured him.

"Is there something wrong with your arm?" Oishi asked as they corralled him into the building. "There's blood on your sleeve."

"He's been dragging it the entire way home," Kaidoh growled.

Ryoma glared at the Viper. At Oishi's stern glance, he muttered, "I can't move it."

"Paralysis?! You should have said something! Inui, I'll need your help."

They shuffled as a unit into the central building. There was a shriek and a crash of ceramic. Ryoma glanced up, catching sight of Ryuuzaki's granddaughter. She'd dropped the bowls she was carrying. Helping the girl in the kitchens again? "R-Ryoma!"

Since when had he given her permission to call him by his first name? And what was she so freaked out about?

"You're bleeding all over the place," Eiji whispered in his ear.

Oh. He hadn't had the chance to try and staunch the bleeding - half of his face was almost entirely covered in crimson. It probably wouldn't look so bad once it was cleaned up.

"Infirmary!" Oishi repeated firmly.

They swept past the shocked girl. Ryoma soon found himself sitting on an upraised table with Oishi dabbing blood away from his eye and Inui poking at his right arm. Seigaku didn't have a proper infirmary, really – it was just a regular room in the central building that had been outfitted as one. A little further away, Fuji was carefully wrapping a bandage around Kawamura's wrist.

"When we arrived, Eiji spotted Fudomine ninja patrolling," Oishi reported while cleaning the wound. "He and Fuji went on reconnaissance. We counted five of them, Ibu and Tachibana not among them, and so proceeded with the mission. We split into three groups. Eiji and I were intercepted by two of them. We fought with them until Kaidoh signalled us."

"It was the same for Taka and I," Fuji added.

Tezuka turned his attention to Kaidoh next. Gruffly, the Viper started his own report. "We went unopposed until we reached the building entrance. One of them intercepted us. I took care of him, but it took a while. By the time I entered the house, Echizen was leaving, and said that the mission was accomplished."

Dark brown eyes focused on him next. "Just a minute," Oishi interrupted, inspecting his eye. "It looks like it just cut the lid. You're quite lucky – you could have lost an eye. You'll still have to wear a patch for a few days as it is."

"Hn, fine," he responded.

"Your report," Tezuka prompted.

Sighing, Ryoma started his own account. "I entered the house alone while Kaidoh-senpai handled the last guy. When I found the target, he was being guarded by someone named Shinji Ibu."

"Ibu was there after all?" Fuji asked, arching an eyebrow.

Ryoma didn't elaborate. "We fought until I got an opening to kill the target. I took it, retreated and rejoined Kaidoh and the others."

"Your arm?" Tezuka asked.

"Got hit by needles in the fight."

"Pressure point paralysis?" Inui asked.

Ryoma scowled. "It should have worn off by now."

Inui hummed at that. "I'm rather impressed you managed to complete the mission in such a state."

It wasn't such a big deal. His father had sent him on missions in far worse condition.

"Kawamura?" Tezuka questioned next.

"I'm okay over here," Kawamura replied meekly. "It's just a sprain."

Oishi was frowning. "I'm so sorry everyone, we were too slow..."

"Saaa, don't apologise Oishi," Fuji consoled him. "Everyone made it back in one piece. And the mission turned out to be a success, thanks to Echizen."

The captain nodded in agreement. Oishi started putting the finishing touches on his eye patch. "I'm done here. Any luck with the arm Inui?"

"I believe it's a new local paralysing agent. I don't have an antidote for it, but it's benign. You should start to get the feeling back in it sometime tomorrow, and regain full movement in about three days."

Three days without use of his right arm? How annoying. Training would be a pain.

"Right. Everybody should get some rest," Tezuka ordered. "Momoshiro, Inui, remain on standby in case Fudomine sends follow up. Oishi, Fuji, we're having a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Echizen, good work."

It was the second time the captain had uttered those words to him. Ryoma felt strangely warm. His father _never_ complimented him on a mission well done. To receive any words about his work from a ninja as skilled as Tezuka… it really meant a lot.

It almost made three whole days without use of his right arm worthwhile.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: This was a rather fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it also.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 6

* * *

Ryoma contemplated his situation very seriously. He could drop his arm to open the sleeve, or try to push his hand back through the hole and hope the fingers caught the fabric. But the act of moving his arm into that position would result in the elbow shoving the fabric off his shoulder altogether. Maybe if he laid it out on the floor, he could put it on that way?

It was halfway through the second day since the clash with Fudomine, and his right arm still wasn't responding. It was making the task of getting dressed inordinately difficult. With a bit of trickery, he'd managed to get his left arm through the sleeve of his haori – having given up on trying to wear his usual garb - but it was damn near impossible to manoeuvre his unresponsive right arm through.

The shouji slid open. Tezuka stepped into the room, bringing an almost visible aura of respect and authority with him. "Echizen, there's a meeting in ten minutes. Your attendance is required." He paused. "Are you having trouble?"

An opportunity. "Buchou... could you...?"

He glanced up through his eyelashes in a vain attempt to mimic the sultry look favoured by the geisha and prostitutes he'd spied on. He had no idea if he succeeded or not – it probably wasn't as effective with one eye patched - but either way Tezuka cleared his throat and nodded slowly. "Of course." He stepped over and held open the hanging right sleeve. Ryoma manoeuvred the right arm through it using his left hand, and allowed it to drop. He figured he could handle the obi himself, but who knew when such an opportunity would arise again. His fingers fumbled with the strip of fabric, and it floated to the floor. He bent to pick it up, timing it so that his hand would reach it at the same moment Tezuka's did.

Theirs fingers brushed as they reached the fabric. Tezuka paused, and then said, "I'll do it. It will be difficult with one hand."

Ryoma withdrew. "You don't need to go to any trouble on account of me." He probably shouldn't be pushing his luck. Tezuka seemed like the shy type.

"It's no trouble. You were injured on a mission I sent you on, after all."

A strong sense of duty. Ryoma made a mental note of it. When Tezuka's arms looped the obi around his waist, though, all thoughts scattered from his mind. They stood there quietly, almost toe-to-toe, as Tezuka's deft fingers swiftly tied the fabric in place. Ryoma found himself oddly conscious of the captain's breathing in the close proximity. He wondered idly if he was supposed to be doing something. All the seductive acts he'd witnessed in his three days of research consisted of come-hither looks, innuendo-laden conversations, lingering touches and the divestment of clothing. None of those seemed particularly appropriate in this context, and even if they were he found himself suddenly incapable of movement and coherent thought.

A moment later, he was finally dressed. "The meeting will be starting shortly. Don't be late."

"Un." That was about all the articulacy Ryoma could summon at that moment. With that acknowledgement, Tezuka silently stepped back out of the room.

Unbelievably, his injury - which he originally cursed himself for - had proven to be the necessary catalyst to firmly entrench himself in Seigaku's main squad. He'd been assigned proper quarters in the central building, instead of having to room with the trainees, and there was talk of sending him on many more missions. It would give him much more face time with Tezuka, which was a plus, but Ryoma still hadn't quite figured out what he was going to do with it now that he had it.

Sighing, he rubbed a hand through his hair. He really wasn't cut out for this seduction stuff. This was a job for kunoichi. Granted, it was possible Tezuka didn't have inclinations in that direction - which would explain why he had this stupid mission – but Ryoma wasn't convinced he'd be able to do it.

Not that he would ever admit that to the old man.

The meeting revolved around mostly routine clan matters such as training the younger clan members and patrol assignments. Ryoma was slightly miffed when the rest of the main squad – sans Momoshiro, Tezuka and Kawamura – were assigned missions the next day, but had to admit that a one-eyed, one-armed ninja was more likely to be a hindrance than an asset. Even if he felt rather confident that he could still take most of them in a fair fight in his current state. At least they were all boring errands. They probably could have sent out the trainees on them, but Tezuka was being cautious in the wake of their encounters with Gyokurin and Fudomine.

Ryoma lingered again after the meeting ended. Fuji was saying something to Tezuka in a hushed voice, just a little too quiet for him to hear. It looked like they were arguing about something, but evidently Fuji thought the matter not worth it, and gave the captain a little push in his direction. Ryoma didn't question it – if Fuji wanted to avoid a lengthy discussion by using him as a distraction, it suited him just fine. It was a good opportunity to talk to Tezuka alone for once.

"Echizen. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Was just wondering if there's anything I can do."

"You should take this opportunity to rest up, and allow your eye and arm to heal," Tezuka counselled.

Ryoma shrugged – or tried to. The effect was sort of lost when only one shoulder would respond. "I don't really want to keep sitting around idle." Not quite true. Normally he'd be quite happy to sit around being idle, but Tezuka wasn't likely to look on that favourably.

Silence. Then… "Can you write?"

"Of course." Some samurai and ninjas got by despite illiteracy, but to Ryoma it was an unacceptable weakness.

Tezuka hesitated, but it was so brief that he thought he might have imagined it. "Then I have some paperwork you could assist me with."

Perfect. "Sure." Paperwork might be boring, but it was time alone with Tezuka. That was surely useful.

Two hours later, he wasn't so sure.

Ryoma's left wrist was starting to ache as he copied out yet another supply request. How many more were there? It was his first taste of the scope of work involved in running just the day-to-day affairs of a clan. Then again, he doubted that any of the smaller family-based clans would bother with this sort of paperwork. No wonder Tezuka was so rarely seen outside of the central building.

He snuck a glance at the room's other occupant. Aside from answering a few questions and explaining what needed to be done, Tezuka remained silent the entire time. If it weren't for the steady sound of breathing and the scrape of brush against paper, Ryoma might as well have been alone. Normally, this was preferable – he wasn't really one for idle chitchat and gossip – but it wasn't exactly helping his plans any.

He returned his attention to the paperwork in front of him with a frown. If he'd known it was going to be like this, he probably wouldn't have volunteered. Doing so much reading with one eye covered made his head hurt.

"Is your eye bothering you?" The smooth baritone cut through the stillness like a knife. Ryoma started, very nearly messing up the character he'd been writing.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he replied. How did Tezuka notice? He wasn't even looking in his direction.

"Don't strain yourself. Inui has some painkillers if you need them."

Ryoma shuddered. The others had told him about Inui's special alternative medicines. Oishi admitted that they worked, but that they were so horrible that most of them just preferred to deal with the discomfort. "It's fine. I'm almost finished with these, anyway."

They lapsed back into silence. Once again Ryoma couldn't help but compare Tezuka to his father. He really was an excellent captain, looking after his subordinates like that. It was easy to see why the other members of the clan respected him so much. He was stern, but surprisingly gentle. Everyone spoke highly of his skill, and it was obvious he was hard-working. The only criticism anyone could really level against him was that he wasn't the most personable of individuals. Did it really matter when his clan possessed such loyalty towards him, though? If Tezuka really wanted to, he could probably break from Ryuuzaki-daimyo and have Seigaku serve a more powerful lord.

With a flourish, Ryoma finished the last stroke on the page. At last! "I'm done here."

Tezuka nodded to the pile of paperwork on his right. "Please leave them there so that I can review them later."

Easier said that done. Trying to pick up the stack of papers – some already curling from the ink – was something of a challenge with only one hand. Eventually he managed to shuffle them all into a relatively organised stack, and picked that up with his left hand. Halfway over to Tezuka's desk, however, the centre of the stack slid out, scattering across the ground like great big paper leaves.

Ryoma swore under his breath, dropping to his knees to reclaim the dropped documents. "I'll help," Tezuka offered, joining him.

"Sorry," Ryoma mumbled. His face was flush from embarrassment. If only his arm would hurry up and move already! "Just… with this hand…"

"You still can't feel it?" The captain gathered up the papers closest to him.

"It's like it's not there," he admitted, poking at his shoulder. "Inui-senpai said that I ought to be getting feeling back by now, but…"

Tezuka hesitated again, and then picked up his limp hand, running his thumb across the back of it. "Can you feel that?"

Ryoma shook his head. Tezuka's fingers worked their way to his wrist. "Anything yet?"

"Nothing."

Tezuka continued kneading the flesh up until his elbow. Ryoma paused. "I felt something then." It wasn't much - just a sensation of pressure - but it was the first time his nerves acknowledged that his right arm even existed for the past two days.

"At least it's on the mend, then." Tezuka lowered his arm back to his side. "Inui is working hard to create an antidote for it. In the meantime, we should just be glad that it wasn't poison and that it will wear off on its own." The captain retrieved the last of the scattered documents, eyebrows rising slightly as he scanned it. "Your penmanship is quite exemplary."

It was a weird thing to comment on. "Is it? You can ask if you ever need any more help with any of this. I didn't know that there was so much paperwork involved in running a clan." It made him cringe to offer – paperwork was so _boring_ - but Ryoma wasn't so stupid as not to take advantage of any opportunity to get more time with the target.

"I would appreciate it. Oishi and Inui are the only others I can rely on to assist with it, and they have many other duties to attend to." Tezuka tidied the stack and placed it with the others on his desk. "That's all for today. You should go rest."

Ryoma knew a dismissal when he heard one. Bowing abruptly, he left the room, feet not making even a whisper of noise.

The next day, Ryoma finally started to get some proper feeling back in the rest of his arm, though there was no strength in his fingers until the evening. A couple of days later he was able to remove the eye patch as well. Over the next couple of weeks, he settled into something of a routine. In the mornings he'd train, and in the afternoons would sit in Tezuka's office with him and help with paperwork. Sometimes there were missions in the evenings, other times not, but none of them were at all noteworthy. Ryoma reported to his father every two weeks, who was impatient with the slow progress, but pleased when his son assured him that he was spending several hours a day with the target. Ryoma just neglected to mention that those hours were spent doing paperwork in silence.

…It was better than nothing. He didn't really know what to do next. Tezuka seemed wholly unaffected by his come-hither looks and double-entendres, leading Ryoma to wonder if maybe he was doing them wrong. It itched at the back of his mind that he might have to be more direct if he wanted to get anywhere, but he was a little reluctant to mess up the status quo when things were going so well. Seigaku had accepted him as one of their own, and he spent almost every afternoon of the week helping Tezuka with paperwork. What more did the old man want? Surely that was good enough?

Of course it wasn't. Stupid old pervert.

Ryoma needed to give the captain a push. It was clear that Tezuka was far too in control of his libido to react to his – admittedly clumsy – advances.

This called for drastic measures.

Normally Ryoma would just try to get the captain drunk, but it didn't look like Tezuka ever partook of sake at meal times like the others did, so spiking his food was the next best bet. He made a special trip to the city to purchase some powdered herbs that some withered old lady swore was an effective aphrodisiac, and then paid three times the price of it to ensure her silence.

Of course, trying to 'poison' a ninja wasn't exactly easy. Even though most of the clan ate together in the same hall, and it wouldn't be that hard to procure a seat next to Tezuka, it was still stupid to try and add anything to his food. Ryoma had poisoned quite a few targets in the past without being seen, but his hand wouldn't be fast enough to beat Tezuka's eyes.

It would have to be done in the kitchens. Unfortunately, meals were usually doled out en masse, being self-served instead of artfully arranged on plates. The only way was to spike one of the dishes that Tezuka was sure to partake of.

Eventually, Ryoma settled on the pickles. Their taste was strong enough that it would hide the flavour of the herbs, and only a handful of clan members ate them. Tezuka was among the small number that placed them on his plate at every meal. It meant that a couple of others would probably be feeling the effects later, but after the aphrodisiac was diluted it wouldn't be powerful enough to make anyone suspicious. Ryoma just wanted to give Tezuka a nudge, not make him lose his mind.

Lunchtime would be the best opportunity to act, as they usually did paperwork afterwards. Ryoma had to bide his time for several days until he was sure that Tezuka was actually going to attend lunch rather than disappear to Ryuuzaki's estate to make reports. Then a short while before lunchtime he slipped unnoticed into the kitchens. The girls in charge of the cooking were so busy that they didn't notice him as he approached the dish of pickles and emptied the valuable contents of the satchel into it. The ground herbs dissolved into the liquid, and were then soaked up by the pickles. Ryoma slipped back out of the kitchen before anyone could notice him.

He sat several seats down from Tezuka at lunch, and after one quick glance to ensure that the captain had several pickles on top of his rice, very carefully avoided looking at him. Watching Tezuka eat would be suspicious. Ryoma tried to focus on his own lunch instead.

"And then when I said I was a ninja, she didn't believe me!" Momoshiro complained, talking between mouthfuls of rice.

"Are you so sure you should be telling strangers that you're a ninja, Momo-senpai?"

"It's fine!" he insisted. "It wasn't like I told her where our base is, or even what clan I belonged to!"

"Fssssshuuuu, moron," Kaidoh hissed. The Viper only ever seemed to speak up when it was to insult Momoshiro's intelligence. He had a surprising number of opportunities to talk per day.

"Are you picking a fight, Viper?!"

"Hey, don't fight. You're being a bad example for the trainees!" Kawamura whispered, trying to soothe the flaring tempers.

Oblivious to the chaos about to break out around them, Fuji asked, "I'm still sort of hungry. Tezuka, could I have your pickles?"

Ryoma froze.

Wordlessly, the captain held out his bowl, sending a warning glance at his subordinates. Fuji delicately plucked his prizes from atop the rice and popped them into his mouth.

"Nyaaaaaa, Fuji, stop being greedy! You ate my pickles as well!" Eiji complained.

"I can't help it. They're so tasty today."

"Fuji-senpai has the weirdest taste," Momoshiro whispered to him, the brewing fight temporarily diffused by Tezuka's attention. "How many pickles has he eaten today? And then he slathers them with wasabi! Not even Inui-senpai will eat that stuff!"

"I find them quite tasty. And they're good for you too, aren't they Taka?"

It took Ryoma a minute to realise that Fuji was addressing Kawamura. "Heh, yes, I guess…"

Shuffling along the floor, Fuji pressed up against the martial artist's side. "You know what else is good for you?" He ran a finger lightly up and down a muscled arm. Ryoma noticed that the others were all suddenly quite absorbed in their own meals.

"But Fuji… it's the middle of the day!" Kawamura whispered.

"The best time, right?!" Fuji replied cheerfully, jumping to his feet and dragging the larger ninja after him.

Ryoma didn't want to know.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Fight scenes! Hooray for fight scenes! How does Naruto's writer do it? My brain is so fried.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 7

* * *

After the rather epic failure of his 'drug Tezuka' plan, Ryoma thought it safer to lay low for a while. The daily routine resumed without interruption.

The alarming part was what he was beginning to consider 'routine'.

Ryoma walked down the hallway, intent on heading to the training grounds. Partway there, he paused. Outwardly, nothing seemed to be amiss…

Cautiously, Ryoma tossed a kunai to the ground in front of him. An instant later a net of wires sprang up, grasping at empty air, followed by heavy blanket dropping from the ceiling. Three seconds after that, Eiji sprung into view, arms outstretched.

"I got you Ochibiiiiii- eh? What are you doing over there?" Eiji stopped, balancing precariously on one foot and staring at Ryoma with incomprehension.

"As though I'm going to fall for a lame trap like that, Eiji-senpai," he drawled, retrieving his kunai from the ground. It was ridiculous. Weight-triggered traps were a pain to hook up. Didn't the redhead have anything better to do?

"Eiji! What are you doing here! If we want to make it by nightfall, we have to leave now," Oishi scolded as he arrived on the scene.

"I wanted to say goodbye to Ochibi!"

The vice-captain eyed the mess in the hallway. "By _killing_ him?"

"This is the only way! Ochibi is so paranoid!" Eiji complained. He made another grab for his prize, and this time Ryoma didn't bother moving. Sometimes the quickest way to escape the redhead's hugs was to give in to them. Now that Oishi was here, it was okay – the vice-captain would pull his partner off before he choked him to death.

True to form, Oishi came to his rescue. "Eiji, you're choking him!"

"Hey, Echizen!" Momoshiro wandered down the hallway, waving at him. "Let's spar!"

"I'm kind of busy right now, Momo-senpai," he wheezed, wondering if it was yet okay to draw weapons to scare Eiji off. Oishi's attempts at prying him free were proving ineffectual.

"Oh? What an interesting gathering. There is ninety percent probability that Eiji set up an ambush for Echizen. However, there should have been a less than five percent chance of success…" Inui was added to the growing crowd in the hallway. "Although now that I have you all here, I was wondering if anyone might be willing to help me test a new-"

Just hearing Inui mention the word 'test' was enough to get Eiji to release his grasp. "Eeek, no! Don't let him, Oishi!"

"I wouldn't mind helping out, Inui," Fuji piped up, appearing from nowhere.

The shoji near where they were gathered opened abruptly, and Tezuka glared out at all of them. "Inui, no testing on clan members. Fuji, don't encourage him. Eiji, Oishi, don't you have a mission you're supposed to be leaving for?"

Everyone snapped to attention at the sight of the captain and disassembled. Ryoma was left staring down at the mess Eiji made of the trap, then left it for one the trainees to clean up.

That was actually a pretty standard morning.

The next day was a little more peaceful, as half of the team was out on missions. Oishi and Eiji then returned late in the evening, and the natural order of chaos was restored. Ryoma was almost growing numb to it by now. In fact, things were set to continue in that pattern indefinitely until the next afternoon.

Ryoma opened the shoji to Tezuka's office at the normal time that day, but was mildly disconcerted to find it empty. Did the captain have a mission? Maybe Ryuuzaki-daimyo requested his presence again?

"Ochibi! Come quick!" Eiji yelled, barrelling down the hallway full-speed. Lightning-quick reflexes were all that prevented Ryoma from being bowled over by the hyperactive redhead. "You have to see!"

"See what?" He ducked another potential death hug from the overly affectionate ninja, and stood a safe distance away.

"Tezuka and Inui are fighting!" Eiji's eyes were shining with excitement. Ryoma's interest was caught.

"Where?"

"Follow me, nya!"

They headed out into the courtyard where they'd originally encountered the kamikaze Gyokurin ninja. The rest of main squad were already gathered. Ryoma's breath caught in his throat. There was movement in the centre of the clearing. Tezuka stood proud with his kodachi unsheathed. Inui was on the other side of the courtyard, throwing a hail of kunai.

_Dodge_, he mentally urged the captain. To his amazement, Tezuka didn't appear fazed. His sword flashed through the air, deflecting the projectiles with ease. Inui wasn't finished, though. He ran forward – for someone so tall Ryoma was briefly surprised by his speed – and drew a kodachi of his own. Tezuka blocked it easily then slashed at the air. The tip of the blade rent a small tear in Inui's sleeve as he retreated.

"What's going on?" Ryoma asked.

"Echizen! Right, you wouldn't know. Inui challenges Tezuka to a battle every couple of months," Oishi explained, eyes transfixed on the fight in front of them. "Inui's been training a lot recently; I guess he thought it was time to try again."

"Probability of kunai being attached to wires, 82 percent!" Inui recited, knocking aside and then slicing free the knives thrown at him. Six of them? The most Ryoma had ever managed to puppeteer at one time was four.

"What happens if Inui-senpai wins?" he asked. While Inui was an excellent spy – he was almost _too_ thorough in his profiling of their targets and enemies – Ryoma didn't think he'd make a very good clan leader. And he also didn't much like the idea of having to try and seduce the spy instead of Tezuka. He'd have to start from scratch!

"Saa, I don't think there's any danger of that. You don't have to worry," Fuji assured him. "Just watch. We might even see Tezuka get a bit serious."

"The battle's been a bit strange though, don't you think?" Oishi asked. "Tezuka hasn't gone in for close-range attacks for a while."

"He has been using more long-range attacks," Kawamura agreed. "Maybe Inui's improved in close-combat?"

"I don't think that's it," Fuji mused.

Ryoma felt a tingle running down his spine as he watched the deadly dance. Inui was a decent ninja – he was strong, fast, and accurate in his attacks. There was nothing fancy or tricky to the way he moved, but he had an uncanny ability to predict what Tezuka's every response to a situation would be. To recognise that the kunai were controlled by wires, and to always manage to block Tezuka's strikes whenever he came in close range… Something was still a bit off, though.

That was when Ryoma noticed the circle of dust at Tezuka's feet.

The captain hadn't moved from that position for the past five minutes.

"A perfect defence," Ryoma breathed.

Inui tried approaching from the right. Tezuka turned on one foot, deflected the attack with his kodachi, and pushed aside a follow-up punch with the palm of his hand. Inui retreated under a storm of shuriken, running counter-clockwise around the courtyard, only just staying ahead of the silver barrage. The edges of his clothes were all torn ragged by now, and he was panting for breath.

There were no openings in that stance whatsoever – Inui had no hope of winning while Tezuka stayed within that zone. The concentration required for such a style of battle was amazing, though. It was physically less demanding than attacking, and would also have a profound psychological effect on your opponent, but the mental drain… Tezuka must be ridiculously disciplined to maintain his position and resist being lured into attacking. He bade his time, deflecting the long-range attacks with ease, ignoring Inui's feints and gradually wearing his opponent down.

It was a devastating fighting style. He forced his opponent to run circles around him and grow tired, and then the instant they slipped up…

Ten minutes later, Inui yielded with the tip of a kodachi at his throat.

Tezuka really was amazing.

The days following the witnessed battle between Inui and Tezuka were superficially no different from the days previous. Ryoma, however, could feel an almost tangible energy in the air. It thrummed at the edges of his fingertips, and crackled every time he met Tezuka's gaze.

The images were burned into the backs of his eyes. From that encounter with Gyokurin he'd been able to establish that Tezuka was an incredible ninja. Now, however, he was starting to become aware of just _how_ incredible.

He wanted to test his own strength against him. He wanted to see Tezuka in battle again, spinning and striking with such economic grace and perfect poise. His fingers quivered with every brush stroke as they sat in the silent office, filling in request forms and duplicating mission reports. The nervous energy he was bundling up had him training longer and harder every day, and completing missions even more swiftly and efficiently than usual. He lay awake at night, replaying what he'd seen through his head over and over again, examining the battle from every possible angle.

He didn't know if Tezuka noticed his restlessness or not, but by the end of the week, Ryoma couldn't deal with it anymore. When he finished helping Tezuka with the paperwork, he remained standing in front of the desk.

Tezuka paused when the shadow didn't move away immediately, and looked back up towards him. "Is there something else?"

"…I want to fight you." It was a challenge to keep his voice even.

Tezuka remained stone-faced. Eventually, he nodded and stood. "Very well. Follow me."

They headed to another training ground – one on the edges of the compound that Ryoma hadn't been to before. Obviously none of the trainees knew about it, as it was completely deserted.

"We can spar here without being interrupted," Tezuka explained. "Are you prepared?"

Ryoma couldn't believe that Tezuka had acceded to his request so easily, but wasn't about to question it. He nodded firmly, fingers curling around the hilt of his kodachi. Excitement buzzed through his veins as he drew steel. He'd left his mask behind, but he didn't need it. He wanted to be able to sense the currents of wind on his face, and smell the delicate perfume of the plum blossoms in the air. He needed every sense available.

They stood at an impasse for a long moment. Ryoma decided that since he was the one who requested the spar, it was good manners for him to be the first to attack. He darted forward, blade brandished. Tezuka parried easily. He threw several shuriken at short range, but they were easily dodged or knocked aside.

They exchanged a lightning-fast flurry of blows, swords whistling through the air and tips of hair floating to the ground after a number of close calls. Eventually Ryoma retreated. Tezuka was in the same stance he'd used when fighting Inui. The perfect defence.

"Stop messing around," Tezuka ordered, switching the kodachi to his left hand. "And fight seriously."

That gave him pause. Ryoma hadn't intended to allow Seigaku to learn that he was left-handed – even being so careful as to ensure his chopsticks were held with his right hand at meals. How had…

The first time he'd been duplicating the reports for Tezuka. His right hand had been incapacitated, so he'd used his left. Tezuka had commented on his penmanship.

Idiot! He'd been so focused on building a good rapport with the captain that he'd completely forgotten about hiding his ambidexterity!

It was too late. In any case, it meant he could enjoy the spar more now. Smirking, Ryoma swapped his kodachi to his left hand. Now things could start getting interesting.

He circled around Tezuka, darting forwards and backwards and testing his defence extensively; with wired shuriken mixed in with non-wired ones, mixing swordplay with hand-to-hand fighting, and switching between long-range and short-range combat as quickly as possible. Nothing made it through. He picked up a few scratches for his efforts too, as his reckless attacks left tiny openings that Tezuka ruthlessly exploited. Fast as he was, he could barely keep up with the captain's speed.

Ryoma settled a short distance away, considering his options. While Tezuka was in that stance, there wasn't a lot that could be done. The best course of action would be to try and turn the battle into one of endurance. The problem was that when he was in defensive mode, Tezuka had to cover less ground. Ryoma was still fresh, but knew things wouldn't stay that way for long if he continued to let the captain dictate the battle.

He'd have to turn it into a siege. Physically Tezuka could keep fighting in that stance for hours – forcing his opponent to skirt the perimeter of his influence meant that they would always tire first. But it was a mentally draining style. If Ryoma took an economical method of long-distance attacking, he could hold out until Tezuka's concentration faltered.

He slid to halt just outside of easy reach, regarding the captain thoughtfully. Dark brown eyes stared at him emotionlessly from behind thin glasses. Ryoma ceased moving about, instead standing still while throwing a variety of projectiles Tezuka's way. None of them made it through, of course, but it took Tezuka more effort to defend himself from them than it took Ryoma to attack. They kept at this for several minutes.

Tezuka threw several shuriken in return. Obviously he'd cottoned on to the plan to turn it into a battle of endurance. Ryoma leant to the side, allowing them to whiz harmlessly past. His eyes widened when a moment later he spied sunlight glinting off a wire. The shuriken were just a distraction - Tezuka hid wires in their wake!

There was no time to react as the wires turned, whipping around his body in a matter of seconds. Ryoma gasped involuntarily as they tightened, pinning his arms against his sides. Reflexes were all that stopped his legs from becoming entangled as well.

Ryoma tried tugging against them, testing his strength against the captain's, but it was a futile endeavour. Tezuka remained unmoving, and straining against his bonds just wound the wires tighter.

"Why, Buchou, if you wanted to tie me up you could have just asked," he purred, fluttering his eyelashes.

Tezuka didn't move, though Ryoma fancied he spied a blush. "Do you yield?"

"Yield?" Ryoma scraped his shoe on the dirt then somersaulted on the spot. The wires fell to the ground around him, freeing his arms. "It's a bit early for that."

"A dagger in your shoe," Tezuka observed. "I see you are well-prepared."

Ryoma smirked, and returned to contemplating the problem at hand. Obviously his opponent wasn't willing to wait around to see who would win the endurance battle. He'd very nearly been caught once, and now that Tezuka knew about the blade hidden in his shoe, there was a higher chance that he wouldn't be able to wriggle out of it next time. But while Tezuka was in that stance, there were no openings. Ryoma needed to make him move. He needed to _create_ openings for him to attack.

Tezuka's battle style was very rotational. Unlucky for him, Ryoma's was too. There were ways to break that style – his father had done it to him hundreds of times before.

Flicking his wrist, he threw a dart, aiming for the captain's peripheral vision – he noticed that he tended to react just a little slower there. Sure enough, Tezuka whirled, sword slashing through the projectile. Brown eyes widened when it exploded into a cloud of smoke. Ryoma had hidden a smoke pellet inside.

Tezuka had no choice but to leave his ring of defence or be a sitting duck. Ryoma met him as he left it, striking forward in an angular stabbing motion. Tezuka stepped to the side, a thin line of blood appearing on his cheek, and parried the sword as it swept back towards him.

Ryoma grinned. Tezuka normally moved in arcs – pushing attacks to the outside of a circle – but that sort of motion was ill suited to dealing with more angular methods of attack. While an angular attack could be easily avoided, it served his purpose well enough; finally, there was an opening. His sword whooshed downwards.

It stopped a hand's width away from the captain's face; blade caught between two fingers.

Ryoma stared. He was shocked to numbness as Tezuka pushed the sword aside, pulling it from his grasp. Tezuka's own kodachi was pointing at his chest.

"Do you yield?" Tezuka asked again.

His throat was dry. Wetting his lips, Ryoma murmured, "Yes."

Tezuka withdrew, sheathing his kodachi again. Ryoma bent to retrieve his sword from the ground, mind blank. It was unbelievable. Catching a sword with both hands was something he'd eventually perfected, but he'd never even _tried_ catching it with just one.

It was a powerful technique, though, even if it was incredibly dangerous. It trapped the opponent's sword, while still leaving a hand free to attack. How on earth did Tezuka master something like that? His timing must be superhuman.

Ryoma was left breathless. It wasn't like losing was all that new to him – he'd lost every single skirmish with his father he could remember – but it was still… he wasn't sure what he was feeling right then. Disappointed? Maybe a little. Thrilled? Perhaps. The adrenaline was still thrumming in his veins. It was nice to be able to cut loose every now and again. Awed? Certainly. Tezuka had shown him a trick that not even his father could do.

Perhaps it was happiness. Tezuka had taken him seriously from the outset, rather than flaunting his superiority. He acknowledged him as a worthwhile opponent. Even in the throes of Ryoma's most desperate attacks, Nanjiroh continued mocking him. No matter how many missions he completed successfully, his father would dismiss them as child's play. It felt _good_ to be recognised as a valuable member of a ninja clan. It confirmed what he suspected all along – that he _was_ a competent ninja, and that his father was just so monstrously strong that they didn't even belong on the same scale.

"It was a good spar," Tezuka stated. "Thank you for giving it your best."

"Why did you agree to it?" Ryoma asked, plucking a few shuriken from the ground. No sense in them going to waste.

"…You have potential. I wanted to see it." Tezuka picked up the remains of the dart he'd cleaved in two, inspecting it carefully. "The hidden smoke pellet was a nice touch."

"Still mada mada dane," he muttered under his breath.

Tezuka seemed amused by that, though didn't say anything more. They continued cleaning up the clearing in silence.

Ryoma retrieved the last of the shuriken, tucking it up his sleeve. He turned back to the captain. One thing was still bugging him. "I don't understand. The clan is so loyal to you, and you're the best ninja for leagues around." Not including his father, but the old man wasn't active so he didn't count. "Why do you remain loyal to Ryuuzaki-daimyo when you could sever ties and have the clan serve a more powerful lord?"

It was a risky type of question – the sort that could break trust. But Tezuka just met his gaze levelly, and responded, "It is far more satisfying to serve a lower lord and make them great, wouldn't you agree?"

Ryoma's eyes widened. His mouth stretched into a smirk. "Heh. You really are something. As expected of the captain."

Unbelievable though it was, he was sort of starting to like Seigaku.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: This chapter is, um, sort of short. Sorry! The next chapter will be much longer to make up for it. Also, for those who asked – no Tezuka POV, sorry. I was determined to make it through this fic without switching.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 8

* * *

The air seemed clearer to Ryoma the next day, and there was a spring in his step that hadn't been there before.

"You're in a good mood," Momoshiro observed, slinging an arm over his shoulders. "Did you get a date?"

"Eh?"

"You were almost smiling. I thought it must be a girl," the taller ninja jibed. "Hey, is it Ryuuzaki's granddaughter? I think she likes you."

Ryoma shrugged off the arm on his shoulder irritably. "Don't be stupid."

"Whatever you say," Momoshiro laughed. "Hey, come spar with me again."

"You'll lose," Ryoma pointed out, even as they changed their course for the training grounds. They'd sparred plenty of times before, and Ryoma won every bout easily. Momoshiro had figured out that with his superior strength all he had to do was catch any wires the smaller ninja used against him and his defence would turn into an excellent offence, but hadn't yet found a means of dealing with Ryoma's swordplay or agility. Hand-to-hand combat wasn't much good when your opponent could duck under all of your blows.

"Ha, we'll make it fair, then! We'll fight without weapons!"

"Che, forcing me to use your speciality?"

"Scared?" Momoshiro taunted.

"You'll still lose." Ryoma was faster, and while he was nowhere near as strong as his senpai, that didn't matter when he could deliver twice as many hits.

"We won't know until we try!"

They arrived at the clearing and started sparring. Ryoma didn't pay a whole lot of attention; after fighting Tezuka the day before it felt like Momoshiro was moving through water. His mind was instead firmly fixed on the other ninja's earlier comments.

A date.

It was an uncomfortable reminder. For the past couple of days he'd been so wrapped up in missions and his amazement at Tezuka's skills that he'd almost forgotten about his overall goal. He kicked Momoshiro in the jaw, flipping backwards and checking the sky with one eye. The moon was only just visible – rising in the early afternoon. He only had another couple of days before his father expected his next report.

Momoshiro stumbled back, struggling to regain his balance after the last kick left him dazed. Ryoma ran forward, ducked one wild punch, grabbed the arm that threw it, and flipped Momoshiro onto the ground. He hit with a grunt and a loud thud.

"You've been practising!" he accused good-naturedly, sitting up.

Ryoma shrugged. "You should use your nun chucks instead of trying to go bare-handed. You're pretty good with them, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but the damn Viper accused me of relying on them. I have to prove him wrong!" Momoshiro slammed his fist into his palm at that. Ryoma rolled his eyes.

"Idiot. He still uses his snakes, doesn't he?" Momoshiro's sulky silence answered that question for him. "Ah. You challenged him to a bare-handed fight as well."

"He must have cheated! I'm going to have to practice more with Kawamura."

"Heh." His funeral. Even Ryoma was leery of fighting Kawamura in close combat. Just one lucky hit would land you out cold. "I've got to go. Keep practicing, Momo-senpai."

"Cheeky brat!" Momoshiro called after him.

Ryoma ignored him, making his way to Tezuka's office to help with the paperwork as was routine by now. His mind was wholly occupied with his mission once again. His father wouldn't be pleased when he admitted to making no progress over the past couple of weeks.

Honestly, he still didn't quite know what to make of Tezuka, not even after fighting him. The other ninja in the Seigaku clan were easy enough to categorise - you had close-combat hand-to-hand brawlers in Kawamura and Momoshiro, long-range fighting in Kikumaru, intelligence gathering from Inui, snakes and poisons from Kaidoh, tactics from Oishi, psychological warfare from Fuji... but Tezuka, if he had to guess, could do all of those things and more. He was a rare, all-around ninja, and certainly there was no more fitting a leader for an unusual clan like Seigaku.

The thing that was most maddening about all-around ninja was that they didn't have any easily exploitable weakness. Ryoma himself fell into that category, but so did his father, and it was extremely annoying. It ruined all the good precedents - if someone was better at long-range fighting, you brought them in close-range, and vice-versa. You matched strong heavy weight types against fast and agile types. It was the reason why Momoshiro couldn't lay a hand on him, despite being quite a capable ninja in his own right.

Mentally, Ryoma shook himself. That wasn't the intention. This wasn't exactly a battle he was fighting. Thinking about it in standard terms was self-defeating.

Infiltration was successful, so why was the seduction part so hard? Perhaps Tezuka was just blind to the cues he'd been trying to give. Didn't the captain think anything was odd at all about him sacrificing his afternoons every day to help with something as boring as paperwork? Surely he suspected an ulterior motive? Was he really that thick?

Perhaps that was the pot calling the kettle black – Ryoma had to admit that what little he'd learned of romantic affairs had been acquired in three days of spying on prostitutes and geisha.

Prostitutes and geisha…

Maybe he needed to act shyer? The geisha were always hiding their faces behind their fans and acting all demure. He didn't have any fans or anything to hide his face behind, but maybe wearing his facemask around Tezuka would help. He didn't see _how_ – it struck him as strange – but he was willing to try almost anything at this point.

When Ryoma slid open the shouji the next day, Tezuka glanced up with his mouth opened to greet him, then paused. He adjusted his glasses, swallowed, and gestured him into the room.

It was a reaction, at least, though Ryoma wasn't sure if it was a good one. He briefly worried that perhaps it was bad manners to be wearing his facemask inside. Tezuka was probably too polite to say anything if it was.

It might have also been that he'd exchanged his usual long-sleeved black garb for a small vest and a mesh shirt. Ryoma didn't usually bother with the chain mail – it was no protection from a direct hit, and also gave him fewer places to hide weapons. In this instance, however, it showed a bit more skin, and accentuated his figure in a way his normal clothing couldn't. Ryoma normally didn't pay even a whit of attention to his appearance, but under the circumstances trying to look good could only help him.

He sauntered over to the table. Tezuka gestured him to the stack of paperwork to his right. With a flutter of his eyelashes that made him cringe internally – this mission was really starting to hurt his pride – Ryoma took the paperwork and retreated a safe distance away to start copying out the reports.

Then they sat there in silence for the next hour.

Tezuka didn't even _look_ at him.

Ryoma was somewhat frustrated by the captain's discipline and focus, and maybe even a little peeved that even when trying he wasn't able to distract him. Even just a little bit more feedback would be useful! At this stage, he didn't know if he was actually being seductive or just making a fool of himself.

He finished the page he was on somewhat angrily, strokes jerkier than normal in his irritation. Thankfully the mask hid his expression – it wouldn't do for Tezuka to see his displeasure. Once done, he set the pages aside to dry for a minute, gathered them up and headed over to where Tezuka was working diligently.

"Buchou," he said softly, trying to mimic the alluring way the geisha spoke. He had a feeling that he failed horribly. "The paperwork…" His voice trailed off.

"Just over there will be fine."

He carefully placed the paperwork as indicated, then hesitated. Ryoma slid his eyes to the side, fiddling with his fingers the way he'd seen Ryuuzaki's granddaughter do so many times. It was a shame he couldn't blush on cue, but the mask would hide it anyway. "If that's all?" he muttered softly, filtering invitation into his voice.

Tezuka didn't take the bait. "Thank you for your help."

He'd not just humiliated himself by acting all demure for the captain to dismiss him so easily. "You'd been crouched over that desk all day, though. Isn't it uncomfortable?"

"A little. Your assistance helps, though. It doesn't take so long to get through it anymore." Honestly, it was hard to see how on earth Tezuka would have managed without that help. Why did they have so much paperwork?

Gratitude was all well and good, but that wasn't what Ryoma was after. "Your shoulder looks like it's giving you trouble. Perhaps I could massage it?"

"My shoulder?"

"You've been rolling it every few minutes for a while now."

Tezuka didn't respond, though there was a faintest hint of surprise in his expression. If nothing else, he was getting practiced at discerning emotions from the miniscule changes to Tezuka's permanently neutral countenance. Ryoma didn't wait for permission. He stepped around the desk, dropping to his knees behind the captain and sliding his hands onto Tezuka's shoulders.

Kneading the tight muscles, Ryoma spent a moment appreciating just how finely toned the captain was. How did he manage it? He spent so much time inside doing paperwork or in discussion that he wouldn't have a lot of time to practice. In fact, that spar with Inui had been the first sort of training he'd ever seen Tezuka do.

Tezuka had stilled under his touch, brush no longer moving over the paper. Ryoma took this as a good sign, and leant in closer so that his head was hovering over the captain's shoulder. "Hmm, you still have a lot of work to do."

Abruptly, Tezuka started writing again. "Yes. That will be enough. You don't need to stay."

It was a dismissal. Ryoma let his hands fall away from the captain's back as he stood. "Until tomorrow then."

Tezuka just inclined his head in response as he left the room with a somewhat bashful bow. Once safely ensconced within his rooms again, Ryoma tugged off the facemask and threw it to the ground. Was Tezuka _immune_? Ryoma was starting to worry that he was asexual.

It didn't sit right, though. Tezuka wasn't particularly expressive, but he was convinced that the captain was at least a little bit interested, even if only superficially. Ryoma didn't believe for a minute that he'd continue to ask for help with the paperwork daily if he wasn't, regardless of how much of it there was. No matter how good his self-control was, he was still human, and the brief flickers across his expression assured him that Tezuka wasn't completely disgusted by the idea.

Why then was he so resistant to it? The mixed signals were driving him mad.

It didn't matter. Ryoma would figure out a way around it. He _needed_ to. He wouldn't fail the mission. He couldn't. But he'd run out of ideas of what to try next.

Ryoma glanced at the sky. It was time to report to his father again.

This was really turning out to be a colossal pain.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: This is pretty much my favourite chapter. I'm sure you can guess why. This is pretty much where this fic earns its rating.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 9

* * *

Ryoma kept his head bowed while his father leisurely finished drinking his sake. He was tempted to throw it on the old man's robes and set fire to it, but the last time he'd tried that he'd wound up with second-degree burns all over his arms. It was not a trick he was eager to try again.

Nanjiroh took a lengthy sip, and then leaned back with a yawn. Ryoma briefly considered whether he'd be quick enough to reach the exposed throat with a kunai, before unhappily deciding that the kodachi resting on the table was close enough for his father to easily employ in defence. Chances were the bastard old man was baiting him, and he didn't particularly want to pick up any injuries that his colleagues might question.

"So… no progress then."

"No," Ryoma admitted sourly. He'd continued wearing his new outfit - complete with mask - in the captain's presence, but either he'd been completely off base with his approach, or Tezuka had grown used to it.

"You really are hopeless, aren't you?" the old man sighed.

So the facemask ploy hadn't worked. He'd think up something else. "I don't really know what you want to accomplish by giving me this mission," came the retort, accompanied by a fierce scowl.

"Idiot boy! You have to learn the ways of the world some time. Oh, my wonderful son, growing up so fast!"

"Stupid old man."

"So uncute. You won't catch anyone with that face. Oh, that reminds me, I brought you a present." With a wink and a deft twist of the wrist that had Ryoma instinctively reaching for a shuriken, the old man produced the most unusual garment.

He gaped. It was a fine silken translucent nightgown with frilly edges. It was of an exotic sort of design he'd never seen before, and the material was undoubtedly expensive, but it was the utter indecency of the cut – never mind the almost transparent nature of the material – that left him speechless. "What is that for?"

"For your mission, of course! What else would it be for?"

"I'm supposed to wear this?" he asked with wide, horrified eyes.

"Idiot boy! Of course not. It's for the target."

He blanched. The idea of Tezuka wearing this…. _Thing_… was even more ridiculous than the idea of he himself wearing it. His father had obviously officially gone insane.

Ryoma accepted the garment gingerly, folding it and tucking it under his arm. "If that's everything…"

"Fine, off with you. I want to get back to my beauties, anyway," his father said, shooing him away. Ryoma could hear feminine giggles from the next room, and had a sinking feeling about the origin of the fine garment now in his possession. "You'd better make some progress by next time!"

"Sure," he replied drolly, tugging up his facemask and leaving the house. Even outside, he could hear his father's voice as he returned to entertaining the girls – likely hired with money _he'd_ earned on missions.

He was especially cautious while returning to his quarters in the dead of the night – since his room was now wedged between Kaidoh's and Momoshiro's, there was a higher probability of someone noticing his comings and goings. It was never a problem with the trainees, as they always slept like the dead, and if anyone were awake to see him they would just assume he was on a mission. The main squad would know differently.

It was sometimes easy to forget his father's orders while inside the compound, though. Even though he never fully let his guard down, it was hard to remember that he was there on infiltration – he really felt like a part of the clan when Momoshiro would drag him to the kitchens and wheedle the help for extra food, or when Eiji would set up elaborate ambushes just to tackle him into a hug, or when Oishi would insist on patching up even the slightest graze picked up from sparring. It was only when the subject of Tezuka came up that he recalled it.

He knew that he was dallying. In order for there to be progress, it was obvious that he needed to do something drastic, but…

"You've been wearing your facemask a lot more recently," Fuji commented mildly as they passed in the halls.

How would he know? Fuji never opened his eyes. Ryoma didn't bother responding.

"Saa, it will probably hinder you more than help you," Fuji added in an almost careless aside.

Ryoma was immediately wary. "It's none of your business."

"If you say so," Fuji replied cheerily, continuing on his way.

Ryoma let his arm drop. He'd been wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his kodachi without even realising it.

"Exhibits paranoid tendencies," a voice muttered behind him. Startled, Ryoma whirled on one foot, hand reaching for his kodachi yet again. He relaxed marginally when he caught sight of glinting glasses. Just Inui.

"What do you want?" he asked, a little grouchily. Talking with Fuji always put him on edge.

Inui adjusted his glasses. "I'm merely gathering information."

"Even on your allies?" Ryoma asked blandly. Oishi had regaled him with stories of Inui's tendency of stalking his colleagues to gather information on their habits, but this was his first brush with it. He'd been hoping that he could avoid piquing the spy's interest.

"Especially on my allies. I must ask – what is the source of your paranoia? You continually exhibit an advanced awareness of your surroundings, to the level most ninja normally only exhibit during patrols or on missions. While I acknowledge that constant battle-readiness is a desirable trait, my research has demonstrated an average drop of almost fifty percent in efficiency if this state is maintained for more than three days. It is not advantageous if-"

"You'd be nervous too, if Eiji-senpai were trying attack you around every corner," he interrupted. It wouldn't be good to let Inui try and investigate what reason he might have for being paranoid.

"It is merely concern on my part. If any member of the clan is not operating at peak efficiency…"

"Thanks, Inui-senpai," he interjected. "But I'm supposed to be helping Buchou with the paperwork right now." He slid past the spy, hurrying down the hallway.

"Apparently genuinely likes doing paperwork… perhaps only feels he is able to let down his guard while in the presence of a superior fighter…?" Inui continued his muttered musings in the background.

Honestly, Inui hadn't been wrong. Ryoma was starting to get tired. He estimated that he'd been at this mission for over two months now, and spent most of that time with his guard at least partway up. The whole problem was that it _was_ so easy to get comfortable and forget himself and let his guard slip – something he couldn't afford when he was infiltrating a ninja clan. Two months was a long time to maintain that level of paranoia. Obviously if Inui had managed to surprise him earlier, it was starting to take its toll.

That settled it, then. He couldn't keep delaying any longer. To do so was dangerous. The longer he let things draw out, the higher chance of him making a mistake. Both Inui and Fuji were starting to pay more attention to him. He wouldn't be able to hold up under their combined scrutiny. And if they discovered him, the mission would fail. Ryoma refused to accept that outcome. He was going to surpass his father as a ninja, and that meant completing missions without fail until he did.

An eerie sort of calm stole over him as he did paperwork with Tezuka that afternoon. He watched the captain stealthily through his lashes, wishing that his facemask could hide his eyes as effectively as his mouth and nose. Tezuka didn't suspect anything yet. It was sort of infuriating. Ryoma didn't know how much more blatant he could be – feigned shyness, brushing hands when handing over paperwork each day, coy glances… ninja were supposed to be observant! Perhaps he'd actually found Tezuka's one weakness – a complete obliviousness to matters of a personal nature.

Unless Tezuka was being deliberately ignorant, but Ryoma refused to contemplate that possibility; it would mean his failure.

He finished the paperwork early, and headed outside for some fresh air. His nerves were tingling in anticipation. If nothing else, the useless old man did at least give him a new idea to try.

Ryoma spent a good two hours in his room that night working up his nerve. He remained kneeling in the centre of his room as the building started to grow dark, waiting until he was certain that his colleagues were settled in and unlikely to try and disturb him.

It was _really_ tempting to put it off for another night. But if he kept doing so, he'd _never_ do it, and the old man would give him an earful.

Ryoma held up the slip of fabric and eyed it distastefully. He'd never seen anything quite like it, not even during his three days of research. It was obviously some ridiculously expensive imported woman's garment; his father had likely stolen it from one of those up-market prostitutes he'd hired. The silk was too fine for the old bastard to have bought it himself.

With a sigh, he let the smooth fabric slip through his fingers, catching the straps on his thumbs. Even if the old man had said that it was for the target, Ryoma couldn't picture Tezuka in something this... undignified. And it was much too small to even come close to fitting. But, regrettable though it was, the old man _was_ more knowledgeable in such perverted matters than he.

There was no choice. He'd have to wear it instead.

Ryoma disrobed with a scowl. Hesitating one last time, he carefully slid the negligee over his head. The fabric slithered across his skin like cool water, hugging his form and flaring out with a lacy hem halfway up his thighs. Just grand - there was nowhere he'd be able to hide any weapons with this outfit. He wouldn't be able to wear his facemask, either. And the way the fabric hung around his chest and shoulders removed any lingering doubt that this was a girl's garment. The mission was embarrassing enough already, and now he was cross-dressing? The day he defeated that old man was going to be sweet.

Right... now what?

He was off to see Tezuka, he supposed. Hopefully this embarrassment was worth it.

Ryoma fetched a yukata to wrap around himself for the short walk to the captain's room; he felt naked wandering around in this half-transparent rag. He tried not to think of how the captain would react when he saw him. The worst-case scenario was that Tezuka just thought him crazy and immodest; given the idiosyncrasies of the rest of the Seigaku clan, if he was rebuffed he could maybe try to pass it off as a personality quirk.

He set out down the wooden hallway towards the captain's room, bare feet not making even a whisper of noise. The rest of the compound was dark and quiet; the trainees would all be asleep, and the older members of the clan were either out on patrol or drinking in Eiji's room. There was the dull glow from a lantern coming from Tezuka's quarters. Ryoma lightly tapped on the shoji. There was a brief silence, then a deep voice calling, "Enter."

He slid the shoji open, stepped inside, and closed it carefully behind him. Tezuka was seated on the floor at his desk, working as usual. He was also dressed in a yukata, and about to go to bed if the laid out futon nearby was any indication. He set aside his brush as he turned to regard his visitor. "Echizen. Is something the matter?"

Ryoma didn't respond. He approached the desk, fiddling with the obi that held the yukata closed, and let the fabric fall from his shoulders.

Tezuka blinked, staring at him in stunned silence. Ryoma sidled forward, dropping to his knees and leaning across the desk, hands resting on the papers scattered over its surface. He was vaguely aware of the thin fabric of the negligee hanging slightly, giving Tezuka a clear view of his exposed chest. It was with some satisfaction that Ryoma noticed the dark brown eyes wandering in that direction.

Eventually, Tezuka found his voice. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I think this makes my intentions pretty clear," Ryoma murmured. "You're just being thick."

"You're saying…" Tezuka's voice was quiet, and tightly controlled. Ryoma leaned in a little further, eyes half lidded and glowing in the dim light.

"Why else would I keep doing paperwork every day?" A hint of frustration found its way into his voice, but Ryoma quickly smoothed it.

Tezuka was silent. It didn't strike him as a good sign. Perhaps he was to be killed for his insubordination. Ryoma once again regretted not being able to hide any weapons in the skimpy outfit.

The captain took off his glasses, cleaning them on his yukata. Ryoma found himself staring – he'd never seen Tezuka without his glasses before. He was broken out his reverie when the captain uttered a single word, replacing the glasses on his nose.

"Why?"

Was this the moment that could make or break him? "You're so insecure that you need to ask?"

Tezuka remained stone-faced.

Apparently so. Twisting his lips into what he hoped was a convincing smile, Ryoma listed, "You're strong. You're calm. You're always composed, and never annoying. You're the leading example of a perfect ninja. You're handsome, honest, reliable, and kind. What kind of fool wouldn't like you?"

Ryoma paused, mildly disconcerted at how easily the words had fallen from his lips. He hadn't been lying, he realised. He really did like and admire all those things in Tezuka.

Tezuka still didn't move, or even react. It looked as though his efforts had failed. Time to stage a tactical retreat, and salvage what progress he could.

"Sorry. I should have realised... I understand." Why did he feel so bitter all of a sudden? "Someone like yourself probably wouldn't-"

A pair of warm lips captured his mouth mid-word.

Ryoma's eyes briefly went wide, and then slid closed.

In those three days before the mission had begun, he'd done some research and a very rudimentary amount of practice... but it had been nothing like this.

Conscious thought abandoned him as he was swept away by sensation. A part of him was vaguely aware of a tongue probing gently at his lips. He opened his mouth slightly, granting access. He let out a barely audible mewl at the unexpected feelings borne from Tezuka plundering his mouth. His body was starting to grow warm.

When they broke apart, he was surprised to see the normally aloof captain's face flushed. "Buchou…"

Tezuka stood, moving the paperwork to the side. It struck Ryoma as a terribly fastidious thing to do, but he was honestly still a little too dazed to really make fun of it. He held out his hand, and Ryoma took it out of reflex. Tezuka gently pulled him to his feet, and led him towards the futon.

His heart started thudding heavily in his chest. Was he really…?

Tezuka must have seen the question on his face. "You've changed your mind?"

Ryoma shook his head fiercely. "No. It's just… you…"

Tezuka appeared briefly uncomfortable. "I have… I've been resisting the notion." There was an awkwardly long pause before he offered; "It did not strike me as wise to become involved with a subordinate."

That was so like the captain. "What changed your mind?"

Tezuka pulled him close, and lowered him on to the futon. "A number of things. Your determination. And I admit that I have been irritated lately, as well." He bent down, glasses glinting in the lamplight, and pressed their mouths together again. Ryoma's eyes slid closed.

"It bothered me when you started wearing your facemask all the time," Tezuka murmured into the kiss. "It's like you're hiding."

Butterflies were dancing in his stomach. Ryoma returned the kiss fervently, thoughts reduced to a mere haze. Tezuka's fingertips started trailing across the silken fabric that was doing a poor job of covering his abdomen. Ryoma broke away with a gasp at the unexpected contact, arching his back. He didn't understand how such a light touch could leave such a trail of fire on his skin. The fingers continued their path down to his thigh, before slipping under the edge of the sheer fabric.

Ryoma hadn't expected things to move this quickly, and found himself losing control of the situation. He'd expected _some_ sort of result from such a drastic measure, but never anticipated that Tezuka would start taking initiative on his own. It was good, though – that was the point. But he was starting to get the sensation of being a boat on a rampaging river; he'd pushed away from the pier, but was now being irresistibly pulled along by the tide.

Ryoma squeaked when calloused hands brushed over a particularly sensitive spot in their exploration, and then covered his mouth, embarrassed by the sound. Was Tezuka smiling at him? Surely it was just a trick of the light. "Now you're getting nervous?" the captain asked wryly.

He didn't trust his voice right then, so he didn't reply. Tezuka's lips quirked, and he leaned in closer. His breath felt almost painfully hot against his neck. Ryoma couldn't deny his growing arousal – in that indecent outfit it was there plain to see. The captain noticed, too, but didn't remark; he merely lifted the negligee up. "Raise your hips," he instructed. Ryoma breathlessly complied, and the captain slid the delicate fabric past them.

"Where did you get this?" Tezuka questioned as he pushed the silky negligee up until it was pooled under his armpits. The coarse fabric of the captain's yukata felt like sandpaper against his exposed stomach after it.

"For someone so quiet, you talk a lot during sex," Ryoma remarked, pulling him down for another kiss. While Tezuka was occupied with that, his fingers tugged impatiently at the obi holding the captain's yukata closed. It wasn't fair that he was lying there almost naked and Tezuka hadn't even uncovered his chest.

Tezuka obliged him, casting aside the fabric and leaving his body bare. Ryoma found himself staring – the broad shoulders and finely muscled physique were simply unearthly when dappled in warm lantern light.

"You have a lot of scars," Tezuka observed, fingers drifting across a thin jagged line on his abdomen, and then wandering to a series of small white marks on his side. From the glint in his eyes, it was obvious that he was calculating what sorts of weapons could be responsible for the shapes and how severe the injuries incurred were.

It was one of the perils of regularly training with a ninja so much stronger than himself and being thrown into missions he wasn't ready for from a young age. Ryoma wasn't particularly in the mood to discuss it, though, and splayed a hand across the captain's chest. He could feel Tezuka's heart beat under his palm. "Che, I'm not as strong as you yet. You've got hardly any at all." His hand slid up the captain's shoulder, tracing over what looked like an old stab wound, and then drifted to the elbow where a thin mark indicated a close brush with a kunai. The dreamy expanse was otherwise flawless.

Tezuka closed his eyes, lips brushing across his right eyebrow. The shallow cut from Ibu's sword hadn't left a mark, but the skin still tingled in memory of the wound. "You know that I might not want to send you out into the field, after this," the captain murmured. His hands were starting to wander again.

"Impossible. You're too responsible," Ryoma gasped, breath starting to grow short at Tezuka's ministrations. "You wouldn't let any asset lay idle and grow weak just because of personal attachment."

Tezuka's lips found his way to his collarbone next. "Perhaps you're right."

Ryoma was growing impatient – Tezuka seemed perfectly content to just explore his body, even though it was plainly obvious that the heat was growing too intense for both of them. He wound his arms around the captain's neck, wrapped his legs around his waist and pinned him with a golden glare. "Stop talking already and get on with it."

Tezuka quietly complied.

Somewhere in the throes of pleasure Ryoma allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction.

_Mission accomplished._


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Just about everyone should have seen this coming.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 10

* * *

The next few days passed in something of a dream for Ryoma. The satisfaction of completing a mission successfully filled him with fresh energy, and he allowed himself to truly relax for the first time in the months he'd been at Seigaku.

He still did paperwork with Tezuka in the afternoons. The only difference was that now they often did it knee-to-knee, and would exchange the odd caress afterwards. Tezuka wasn't at all demonstrative outside the privacy of his rooms, and still terribly polite when it came to touching him, but when he got into the mood… Ryoma shivered at the memory. He didn't know it could feel so good. He'd have to be careful that he didn't become a pervert like his father.

Momoshiro was surprisingly quick to notice the change in his demeanour. "You're in a good mood lately. Heh, are you in love?"

"Idiot," Ryoma deadpanned, tugging up his mask to hide his face.

"Who is it?" he teased. "I was right, wasn't I? It's Ryuuzaki's granddaughter! She's always watching you train, you know."

"Don't be stupid," he retorted.

"Eh? What's wrong with her?"

"Her hair is too long," he replied flatly.

"Oiiiii! Hurry up you two! The briefing is about to start!" Eiji called from the doorway, waving frantically.

There had been a significant drop in missions recently. The local politics settled with the cowing of Gyokurin and the death of Fudomine's sponsor, so most of their work was what Inui referred to as 'clan housekeeping' – keeping tabs on what the other clans were up to, and taking preventative measures to avoid any trouble stirring up in their own territory. This mostly involved discouraging organized crime groups from sprouting up in the area, and keeping an eye on any potentially dangerous ronin passing through town. It was tediously boring and not even remotely challenging.

Tezuka gave them the particulars of the mission in his usual brusque and professional manner. Inui had discovered a group of three kunoichi from a rival clan working in a nearby teahouse, and they were to take them out. Normally a smaller team would handle it, but given that the teahouse was buried amongst a network of troublesome alleyways, Tezuka was sending most of them to cover all of the possible avenues of escape.

Ryoma lingered after the briefing was finished – he didn't have a lot of preparation to do for the mission. Tezuka shared a few words with Oishi and came over to him once the others had left. His hands slid around his waist, pulling Ryoma close.

"Hnnn, you're being very forward today," Ryoma remarked. "But we don't have time before I have to leave."

"Of course not." Tezuka tilted his chin up with a finger, and brushed his lips across the black fabric above Ryoma's mouth. "Wearing your mask again?"

"Just for the mission," he promised.

"Don't be careless," Tezuka implored. Ryoma heard the '_come back safely_' hidden within the standard farewell.

"Che, we'll be done before midnight," he stated assuredly, and slouched off to join the others in their preparations. His fingers drifted to the top of his mask, tracing the edge of the fabric. It wasn't even really a kiss – it was just through his facemask – but his entire body felt warm.

The mission went off without a hitch. On the way home, Ryoma idly noted the moon's position in the sky. His father would be expecting a report. That was a new risk – previously he could sneak off in the evenings to make the report and no one would miss him, but he'd been warming Tezuka's futon every second night lately. There was a very high probability of the captain noticing his absence.

He'd just have to go really late in the night. Ryoma mentally groaned at the thought of the lost sleep, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

Two days later he was staring at his father's neck, calculating the speed and trajectory at which he'd have to throw a kunai in order to pierce it. It was habit by now.

"Report?" his father asked, sounding only half interested in his answer.

"The mission was successful," he replied formally.

"Right so… wait, it was successful?" The old man sat up; suddenly keen. "You actually did it?!"

Ryoma was annoyed that he had to ask. "Of course."

"You actually went all the way?!"

A blush started to colour his face, and irritation seized him. "Pervert! What more do you want to hear?!" He stared fiercely at the ground, embarrassed.

His father laughed loudly at that, as though it told him everything he needed to know. It probably did. "This is priceless! I can't believe it! Hey, boy, we should celebrate!" He immediately started pouring some sake.

"No thanks," he replied blandly. Sneaking quietly back into the compound would be significantly more difficult while drunk. There was always a risk Tezuka might smell the sake on his breath later, too. Didn't his father ever consider these things?

"Che, you're no fun. Oh well, more for me." Nanjiroh took a deep sip of the drink and sat back down with a thump. "Well, that is great news. So tell me, boy, what was she like?"

"What?"

"You know… noblewomen! They're so different once you bed them! Was she as well-endowed as her grandmother used to be?" This part was asked with a leer. "She's not much to look at now, but back in the day that old woman used to be a sight for sore eyes, you know. Did those genes get passed on?"

"Eh? You're asking about Lady Sakuno?" Befuddled, Ryoma glanced up from his knees.

"What are you talking about - of course I'm asking about Lady Sakuno!" his father exclaimed.

Mystified, the young ninja asked, "What does she have to do with this?"

"The target, boy! Have you forgotten the mission?"

Blankly, Ryoma repeated, "'Seduce the leader of the Seigaku clan.'"

"Right!"

"...Lady Sakuno isn't the leader of the Seigaku Clan."

"That's right, Sakuno is... what?"

"She couldn't throw a shuriken properly if her life depended on it. She cuts her own fingers to ribbons just cooking."

A lengthy pause. Then... "This _is_ Ryuuzaki's granddaughter we're talking about, right?"

Crossing his arms, Ryoma retorted. "You tell me."

"She really isn't the leader of Seigaku's clan?"

"Of course not."

"Right. Okay then. Wait…" It seemed as though a thought occurred to the old man. "Then who _is_?"

"Tezuka Kunimitsu."

"Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

"Yes."

"This Tezuka Kunimitsu wouldn't happen to be some unknown voluptuous kunoichi with a rather masculine name?"

"No!" Ryoma protested, face heating again.

"And you seduced him."

"Yes."

There was a long silence at that. Then… "My son! My only son!" the old man wailed. Ryoma wondered if maybe this would be a good time to pin the tricky bastard with a few shuriken.

"You ordered me to!"

"I didn't think that demon Ryuuzaki would go soft!"

For such a ninja genius, his father could certainly be an idiot when it came to some rather important details. Did this mean that all of that effort was for nothing? His father hadn't even given him the right target? Didn't he do any research _at all_ before giving him the mission?

Nanjiroh spent a good twenty minutes wailing over the misfortune of his son, which Ryoma stoically endured. It was perhaps the first time the old man was upset on his behalf, but he suspected that was mostly because the pervert was disappointed that he wasn't going to be bringing home any young pretty things for him to look at.

Still, it was getting late, and Ryoma needed to be getting back to the clan. "Are you done yet?" It was actually getting kind of boring listening to his father's ranting.

"Unforgivable!" Apparently there was still more to come.

"It's _your_ fault, you know. I'm the one who should be complaining." It hadn't been entirely unpleasant though, so he didn't see the point in getting worked up about it.

Gathering his composure, Nanjiroh snapped back to attention. "Right. You said that Lady Sakuno trained at the clan occasionally, right?"

_Training_ might have been a bit of a stretch, but she occasionally joined the novices for drills. "Right."

"Okay then. Change of plans. Your new mission is to seduce Ryuuzaki Sakuno."

Ryoma's mouth dropped open. "What?!"

"You heard." The old man was giving him that cheesy grin again, looking rather satisfied with himself.

"And the previous mission?"

"Dropped. Focus all of your efforts on this one now."

Unbelievable. "Are you expecting me to just sleep around all of the Seigaku clan like some sort of prostitute?!"

"Just complete this mission, then you're done," his father dismissed airily.

"Why?!" he demanded. "Is there any point to any of this?!"

"You don't need to know the reason." Nanjiroh was starting to look annoyed. "It's for your own good."

The mission was for his own good, or not knowing? "This is all for your own stupid amusement, isn't it? I bet Ryoga-"

Ryoma didn't have the chance to finish the sentence before his father was standing, blade drawn and pointing at his throat.

"You'll complete the mission, no questions asked," Nanjiroh said. His voice wasn't particularly harsh, nor his expression tense, but it was somehow terrifying all the same.

Ryoma held his glare for a long moment, and then backed down. He wasn't strong enough to challenge his father in that state yet. It felt as though a sort of invisible pressure was suddenly crushing him, making it difficult to breathe. "Understood," he whispered.

"Right, off you go then. See you in a couple of weeks."

He bowed mechanically, and left the house. All that effort for nothing?

Why _Sakuno_? She was useless. She was clumsy, unsure of herself, and freaked out at the sight of just a little blood. Even if she was Ryuuzaki's granddaughter, there was absolutely no benefit to seducing her, unless his father suddenly decided to get into politics instead of fighting. It was absurd.

Given that he was in such a state of shock, it was mildly amazing that Ryoma managed to slip past Seigaku's routine patrols unnoticed. He couldn't remember most of the journey home. He was still annoyed that his father hadn't given him an answer, but it was his own fault for mentioning Ryoga. Ryoga was a taboo subject.

He quietly entered his room again, wincing at the small 'clack' the wooden shoji made as he closed it. It wasn't long until sunrise. Tired though he was, Ryoma abandoned the thought of sleep. He doubted he'd able to. The bitterness left a salty taste in his mouth; he'd worked damn hard to seduce Tezuka. He'd acted pithy and demure, let Eiji call him 'Ochibi' without complaint, fretted over his appearance like some noblewoman, worn highly embarrassing women's garments, _sacrificed his virginity_… all for nothing. It was just going to be thrown away.

Ryoma took a breath, calming himself. It was okay. It didn't matter. The mission parameters had just changed, was all.

Except that it wasn't okay. And Ryoma hadn't yet decided how he felt about the sudden shift in mission parameters.

It was clear where his father had made his mistake. He'd assumed that Ryuuzaki's granddaughter would be leader of Seigaku's ninja clan. Obviously the old man's intelligence was out of date - Lady Ryuuzaki, for all her cunning, had a terrible soft spot for her granddaughter. Despite the girl's random abortive attempts at learning the basic ninja arts, Ryoma couldn't imagine her ever becoming a kunoichi, much less leader of a ninja clan.

Still, seducing her would be laughably easy compared to Tezuka. She already seemed somewhat smitten with him, though despite her status was too shy to say anything about it. With a few well-placed words, his work would likely be done.

Except that he had already succeeded in his first mission.

This was going to be messy.

He really was going to kill that old man someday.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Wherein things Get Serious.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 11

* * *

The next day, instead of going to help Tezuka with the paperwork as he normally did, Ryoma sought out Sakuno. She was in the kitchens with her friend as usual, who enthusiastically pushed her towards him when he appeared.

"Um, Ryoma," she muttered shyly. "Is there anything-?"

"I thought you might need some help training," he stated abruptly.

Her eyes widened, and her face coloured slightly. "Really? That is… you're offering to…"

He turned on his heel and started leading the way to the training grounds. She followed with a tentative smile. She was so meek. It was supposedly a desirable trait in noblewomen, but Ryoma found it irritating.

The afternoon was spent coaching Sakuno on the very basics of shuriken throwing. It gave him plenty of opportunities to take her hand, or embrace her from behind as he corrected her stance. She always blushed beet red whenever he did this, which Ryoma assumed was a good thing. If he had to seduce her, he might as well try to make her a better ninja while he was at it.

She was so uncoordinated that it was frustrating, though. Ryoma was glad he was wearing his facemask at that time, as it hid his grimace when she managed to miss the target yet _again_. It wasn't even moving, or all that far away! Ryoma had been well above this level by his fifth birthday.

"That's enough for today," he eventually stated. "You've improved some. I'll come by again tomorrow if you're free."

She was practically glowing. "Thank you so much!"

It was no challenge at all. He waved lazily. "See you then."

His afternoon had been wasted, and Sakuno barely improved at all. Maybe there was something wrong with her depth perception.

That night, Tezuka appeared at the door to his room. "Ryoma."

"Buchou," he replied in what he hoped was a steady voice. He adjusted his facemask nervously.

The captain carefully slid the shoji shut behind him. "I didn't see you this afternoon, and wanted to check to make sure that nothing was wrong."

He didn't want to have this conversation. His stomach was churning, but Ryoma took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. "Buchou… I don't think it's going to work out."

Tezuka stilled. "Pardon?" Obviously the pronouncement caught him by surprise.

Ryoma turned his face away. "I've been thinking about it and… I think we should end it."

Silence. Then… "I see."

With no further ado, Tezuka silently slipped from the room again.

That was it? Just 'I see'? Ryoma wasn't certain what he'd been expecting; Tezuka was hardly the type to get emotional and scream or cry, but to not even ask for a reason? To just accept it and leave things like that? Granted, they'd only been sleeping together for a short time, but the captain didn't strike him as the sort to treat such an intimate relationship so casually.

Ryoma didn't sleep very well that night.

His routine stayed largely the same. In the mornings he'd train, either by himself or with one of the others, and in the afternoons he'd help Sakuno on the basics. She started making him lunch and asking him for picnics under the trees in one of the secluded courtyards, which Ryoma went along with unblinkingly. Every few days there was a mission that would be completed mechanically. He reported to his father after two weeks, who was pleased by his progress. He snuck back into the compound unseen, and repeated the process again.

It was strange. Things were going far too smoothly. Ryoma's paranoia had returned tenfold since his 'break up' – if you could call such an exchange that – with Tezuka. It was just too eerie, too calm. It would be easier if Tezuka would react, get angry, demote him or assign him petty missions in revenge… _anything_. Ryoma would have welcomed even death threats. But the most he'd done was exclude him from one or two squad meetings. The rest of the time the captain just stared at him with fathomless brown eyes and a perfectly neutral expression, and went about business as usual.

He should have been grateful that Tezuka was that professional. It would have made remaining in the clan difficult if he wasn't. But instead it left him feeling sort of numb.

His numbness must have been showing, as Momoshiro pulled him aside after training one morning. "Hey, Echizen, are you okay?"

"Huh?"

The lanky ninja scratched the back of his head nervously. "How do I put this… you know, is anything bothering you? Having any problems?"

"No," he replied dully. "Why do you ask?"

"Eh, it's just… you don't look like you've been sleeping or eating real well lately, I guess. And it's kind of been feeling like you're not really into it whenever we spar." He let out an awkward laugh. "Maybe I was just imagining it? But hey, you know, if anything comes up you can talk to me, okay? We can't leave our star rookie feeling down!" Momoshiro ruffled his hair playfully. Ryoma didn't react.

"Okay, Momo-senpai. I'd better get going."

He considered that the end of the matter, but Kaidoh intercepted him as he left the training grounds. "Oi."

"Kaidoh-senpai," he greeted. It was unusual for the snake-user to talk to him outside of missions. "What is it?"

He was looking at the sky, then the ground, then into the distance – anywhere but him. Eventually, he gruffly asked, "You okay?"

Ryoma blinked. This _again_? "I'm fine. Why?"

Kaidoh let out a small hiss between his teeth. "You've been wearing your mask a lot more lately." It sounded uncaring – as though the Viper was just remarking on some technique, rather than making a personal observation.

Thinking about it, Ryoma supposed it was true. "Yeah."

"Any reason?"

"No reason," he replied steadily.

They stood there in an awkward silence for a long moment. Kaidoh seemed about to say something else, stopped, then narrowed his eyes and walked away, hissing about troublesome rookies under his breath. Ryoma watched him go, then turned and ambled towards the kitchens. Sakuno was expecting him. He tried not to sigh at the thought.

He was getting tired. Both Momoshiro and Kaidoh were right in their observations. Sleep had become a fickle thing, and his appetite had diminished. He didn't feel comfortable taking off his mask outside of meal times – he felt as though anyone would be able to see through him at any moment. He was jumpier than even when he first arrived – though that might have been related to the lack of sleep. It was tiresome.

Tiresome, but ultimately unimportant. He only needed to hold himself together long enough to finish the mission, and then it wouldn't matter anymore. He was going to be the best ninja. He was going to surpass his father. He was going to surpass Tezuka. And doing that meant completing his missions without fail.

Sakuno fortunately didn't say a lot while they ate lunch or trained, though she made a couple of false starts towards asking some questions a few times. She was getting more comfortable with him. It was probably time to move things to the next phase.

Ryoma let training run late that afternoon; until the sun set and twilight faded in. "Where do you normally stay?" he asked. Sakuno was technically supposed to live in the daimyo's estate, but given the amount of time she spent with the clan, he assumed she had quarters located somewhere within the compound.

"Oh, um, normally I stay in a room with the help," she explained demurely. "I share with Tomoka."

The lively girl in the kitchen, he recalled. It made sense – Tezuka wasn't likely to give even Ryuuzaki's granddaughter too much in the way of special treatment. "I'll walk you there."

"Oh, um, thank you!" she blurted, then covered her mouth with a hand, blushing at how her voice slipped an octave at the end. Ryoma didn't pay her any mind.

They quietly walked side-by-side in the twilight. It only took a couple of minutes to reach their destination from the training grounds. Once there, Sakuno turned and faced him, cheeks bright red. It seemed she sported a permanent blush sometimes. It was a wonder she didn't faint.

"Ryoma… you're really amazing you know. We're the same age, and you're already such a good ninja…" She glanced off to the side, eyes darting between his face and the ground. "Just, um… I wanted to thank you for helping me so much."

Belatedly, Ryoma realised this was supposed to be a romantic moment. "It's no trouble."

They stood there staring at each other for a long minute. Sakuno's eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head towards him. That was his cue, he guessed.

Ryoma tugged down his facemask, hesitated, then leaned forward, brushing their lips together. "'Night."

She had a faintly glazed expression when she opened her eyes again. "Um, right, good night." She was still standing there, looking as though she was about to say something else, but Ryoma had to get out of there. He turned on his heel and walked away. It was a challenge to keep his pace normal. Once he was out of sight, he broke into a run.

He collapsed to his knees at the edge of courtyard on the fringes of the compound, and then proceeded to heave the contents of what lunch he'd managed to swallow that day into the bushes. The vomit left an acrid aftertaste in his mouth. Grimacing, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Did you also throw up after kissing Tezuka?"

Ryoma started at the soft voice, fingers reaching for a weapon. "Fuji-senpai?"

Fuji stepped into view behind him. His eyes were open. Ryoma was mildly disconcerted to discover that they were blue and that the ninja was not, in fact, blind.

"You alright there, Echizen? Not sick, are you?"

"M'fine," he muttered.

"Saa, is that normal, then?"

Ryoma didn't care what Fuji thought anymore. "Lunch just disagreed with me."

"I can see how it would take the entire afternoon to do that."

"It's not any of your business."

"I didn't want to get involved," Fuji admitted. "Things were going rather well without my help, after all. But it appears that a stick is caught in the wheel. Maybe it was too much for Tezuka after all. I understand that he was reluctant…"

They were having different conversations, obviously. Ryoma was forced to face the first question, rather than try and decode Fuji's cryptic comments. "Does everyone know about what happened with the captain?" he asked tiredly.

"Tezuka's been a bit out of sorts recently, but he hasn't said anything if that's what you're worried about." Fuji had no right to sound cheerful over his dilemma.

"That's a lie. Buchou hasn't acted different at all," he retorted stubbornly. "It didn't mean anything. It was a lapse of judgement."

"And then what do you call this new development?"

Dangerous, dangerous territory. Ryoma started mentally calculating the quickest escape route, just in case Fuji was leading to something. "Reasonable." It was blatantly obvious that Fuji had been keeping tabs on him. Trying to hide his relationship with Sakuno wouldn't do any good if the comparably more clandestine one with Tezuka was known.

"So what do you like about her?"

Asked the question, he couldn't come up with an answer. Eventually, he settled lamely on, "She's pretty. And she's quiet."

"Hm." It appeared that he'd mollified Fuji at least temporarily. The other ninja started walking away. "I won't keep you then. You look like you could use an early night."

Ryoma let out a sigh of relief. It ate at him to know that Fuji knew what was going on, but so long as he didn't question the _why_, things should be okay. He could live with the other ninja thinking him fickle.

Then Fuji stopped, and delivered one last comment to keep him awake at night.

"Saa… I wonder…"

"What?" he asked, a little crankily. Why wouldn't the other man just _leave_ already?

Fuji smiled sunnily, eyes closed once again. "Oh, I was just wondering who is hurting the most in this. Is it Sakuno, is it Tezuka… or is it you?"

Humming, the other ninja strolled away. Ryoma stared after him, and pulled his mask back up irritably.

Once again, most of the night was spent staring at the ceiling, ears pricked to pick up any movements in the darkness. His fingers regularly sought out the reassurance of the dagger hidden underneath his pillow.

It shouldn't have been so difficult to kiss Sakuno. It wasn't like she was ugly, or had a nasty personality or anything. No, it wasn't that it was that disgusting… it was that his gut was churning with guilt.

Ryoma threw an arm over his eyes. This was just grand. He was supposed to be the one to be doing the seducing, but it appeared that he was the one who had been seduced.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: So only two chapters left after this one! End is in sight! Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 12

* * *

Sakuno grew increasingly happy, and Ryoma grew increasingly depressed. It was impossible to tell what Tezuka was thinking, as he continued to wear that same neutral expression that he always wore. At least Fuji didn't try to talk to him again, though he often wore a disappointed expression whenever they passed ways.

That was fine. Fuji could think whatever he liked at this point, so long as Ryoma could complete the mission. Sakuno was becoming less shy with him, and he'd grown numb to their terribly chaste kisses, so it was probably time to move things to the next level. The thought privately filled him with dread.

It took him a couple of days to work up the nerve. And then, just when he thought the time was right to make the next move, the choice was plucked from his hands.

At the end of another routine general clan meeting, Tezuka stopped him from leaving the room. "Echizen. A word, please."

Ryoma felt a sudden chill down his spine. He hadn't spoken alone with the captain since that time in his room, and felt somewhat nervous about doing so now. Had Tezuka's professionalism reached its limit?

"I have a mission for you," he stated. Relief flooded through his veins. Just another mission.

"Sure. What is it?"

Tezuka shuffled through the papers in his arms. "Inui has discovered an inactive ninja in the area without a clan affiliation."

Ryoma blinked. "And that's a problem?"

"He reports that while the man himself is retired, there is evidence to suggest that he might be attempting to seed a clan of his own. Inui estimates that he may already have two ninja in his employ. Naturally, Seigaku cannot allow the creation of a rival clan in the area. The mission is a simple assassination. He is alone and retired; one person should be enough to handle it. We can't risk sending too many people, or we'll alert the daimyo."

Ryoma would probably feel honoured at being chosen if he weren't so numb.

"Alright. The target?"

Tezuka handed over the envelope. "We've located his base. He appears to rarely leave it. This is everything we have."

Ryoma opened the envelope, and leafed through contents curiously. He froze when he realised that the location was very familiar indeed.

"Inui was not able to discover a name, but found that in his contracts, he's referred to as 'the Samurai Ninja'. Will you be able to handle it?"

Tezuka's voice sounded far away, as though he were underwater. It was only years of training that kept Ryoma's expression in check.

The Samurai Ninja. Known to him as Echizen Nanjiroh.

They wanted him to kill his father.

Distantly, he was aware of giving the affirmative to the captain, and leaving the room with orders to complete the mission that night. It was early afternoon. He only had a few hours to prepare.

Did Tezuka know? But then, if they did, why would they give him this mission? Without the name to link them, they had no reason to suspect a connection.

Seigaku continued to surprise him with their ability to gather intelligence. His father had been very careful to avoid attracting attention for a long time – at least until this latest stunt. Perhaps someone had noticed him going to his father's residence to make his reports? Given that he was always careful to cover his hair and wear his mask when making the trip, it was possible that they didn't realise it was him.

What was he supposed to do? Wasn't his father old friends with Ryuuzaki-daimyo's wife? Why would she consent to this? Wait, no, this was an independent mission from within the clan – they weren't acting on any orders from above. In fact, Tezuka had already suggested that he was quite deliberately keeping this mission secret – it wasn't that uncommon for daimyo to try and control multiple ninja clans, even though such an action directly contravened the clan's own interests. If Ryoma told Ryuuzaki, she'd definitely stop it, but then they'd want to know she came to be aware of the mission particulars, and then want to know why he'd told her. He'd be revealed as an infiltrator and killed. There would be no hope of escape.

Ryoma was trapped. His only option was to complete the mission. But that in itself…

He was shocked out of his daze when Sakuno tentatively knocked on the shoji. "Um, Ryoma? Are we training today?" she asked, poking her head in timidly.

"No," he replied flatly. "I have a mission."

"Oh. Okay then. See you another time." Meekly, she retreated. Ryoma didn't care about his bluntness. She was the least of his concerns at the moment.

Right. His mission was to kill his father. He needed to prepare. This shouldn't upset him – he'd been trying to kill the old bastard for _years_.

That was the problem. It was impossible. Ryoma's hands shook as he carefully selected his weapons. After all the battles they'd fought against each other over the years, Ryoma had scored a blow on his father exactly once. Killing him was a whole other matter altogether.

His options were limited. The old man was better at him in both close-range and long-range combat, and despite his carefree attitude had a good eye for traps. Ryoma would have tried to encircle the house with fire and burn it to the ground if he didn't already know that Nanjiroh had taken plenty of precautions against such a measure; not the least including at least two separate underground tunnels that led some distance away.

The safest bet was to stage a regular ambush - the old man would probably just assume it was no different from his usual attacks, and in such a case he'd likely only be humiliated. If he failed to win, he could at least try again a couple of days later. But being honest with himself… that tactic hadn't ever worked before, and even if he put all of his spirit into it, Ryoma doubted it would work now. The most he could hope for was a single hit.

Therefore the only option was to gamble on that lucky hit.

Ryoma grit his teeth as he made his way to main squad's storeroom.

It would mean his death. The instant his father realised, his life would be forfeit. But he found himself uncaring. If he killed his father, he was at least free of that stupid mission. And if he didn't… perhaps he was better off dead anyway.

Most of the afternoon was spent lovingly preparing all of his weapons. He took his time with them: sharpening the edges to perfection, testing the balance, and carefully holstering them.

Once that was finished, he cast his eyes about his room. There wasn't much else that needed to be done, but he needed another distraction to keep himself busy until dinnertime.

Perhaps a letter. There was a good chance he wouldn't be coming back. He wanted to thank Momoshiro for showing him around and making him feel at home in Seigaku. And maybe Kaidoh, Kawamura and Oishi for worrying about him all the time. Some words for Eiji too, because the hyperactive redhead was always so happy to see him for some weird reason. He wanted to compliment Inui's information gathering ability, even if his stalking was annoying. He didn't know what exactly to say to Fuji, so settled on a cryptic 'you were right'. Ryoma could admit that much.

He briefly considered leaving some words for Sakuno – none of this was really her fault – but wound up setting the matter aside. That only left the captain.

There was a lot he wanted to say. He wanted to explain how much he admired Tezuka, and how terrible he felt about how he'd treated him, and how everything was so unfair. But in end, all he wrote was: _'I'm sorry.'_ The characters came out crooked; he was clutching the brush that hard.

'_It wasn't a lie.'_

An eerie sense of finality washed over him. Putting it all down on paper like that helped organise his thoughts.

No way could he ever let anyone read this, dead or not.

As soon as the ink dried Ryoma tore the letter into pieces, and hid the scraps in his futon.

He went to eat dinner with the others. It felt like he was watching everything from far away, though. He shovelled rice into his mouth mechanically, idly thinking that this could very well be his last meal.

Ryoma shook his head irritably, as though to chase away the morbid thoughts. He just had to complete the mission. Focus on one blow at a time. Just draw blood. He could do that much. Thinking about what happened after was a waste of time.

"Hey, Echizen, you going to eat that?" Momoshiro asked, eying his plate.

He shoved it away. "You can have it. I should probably get going."

"Oh yeah, you've got a mission, right? Hey, good luck. Come back safe."

"Thanks," he replied tonelessly, and left the building. The chatter of dinner conversation faded into the background, replaced by the tranquil rustling of leaves in the wind.

Ryoma sighed. No point in putting it off. He headed for the gates, and set off into the forest surrounding the compound.

The path to his father's hideout from Seigaku was worn into his memory by now. Normally the journey was long and boring, but that night it went far too quickly. He arrived there far too soon.

Would his father be suspicious? He was a couple of days early for his scheduled visit. Should he lie in wait, or try and attack mid-report? He might stand a better chance if his father wasn't expecting him.

Ryoma stepped past the standard array of booby-traps surrounding the property with the practiced ease of someone familiar with them. He soundlessly made his way through the house, stringing wire and traps of his own, ears pricked for the rustle of cloth that normally gave his father away.

The light from the lantern in the next room shifted, then disappeared. Ryoma tensed and crouched low in wait. His father had finally noticed a foreign presence.

Keen eyes picked out the silhouette that moved soundlessly into the room. Ryoma held his breath lest it give him away. He had to wait until the old man was closer before moving. There would be an opening, even if it were a tiny one.

_There_. Ryoma snapped out his wrists, sending six shuriken flying towards the target. As soon as they left his hand, he was already moving, throwing more as he did so. Half of them ricocheted off each other, hiding their trajectory.

Nanjiroh casually deflected them. Why wasn't he catching any as he normally did? Did he suspect? Ryoma leaned his head to the side to avoid a kunai thrown in retaliation. Given that the old man didn't follow it up, he was right in that it was merely a test to determine his location – moving too much to avoid it would just reveal his position.

"Heh, you're not bad. Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Nanjiroh sang, eyes sweeping the room. Ryoma grit his teeth. Even under attack from an unknown enemy his father remained cocky and confident. His only advantage was that his father couldn't see as far in the dark as he could.

"Oh, ho, what's this?" One of the wires hooked into the ceiling fell limply to the floor. One trap disarmed already. If he waited too much longer before launching another offensive, Nanjiroh might find them all.

The target was too close to the side of the room for it to work, but it would at least force him to move. Ryoma threw another hail of shuriken, making no effort to hide his position this time. His father easily deflected the projectiles, and started towards him.

"Got you now," Ryoma whispered under his breath. He cut the wire next to him.

A heavy axe swung from the ceiling, suspended on a thick rope. Nanjiroh's eyes widened, and he leapt to the side – attempting to block something that heavy would leave him open and damage his sword. As he dodged, he triggered another trip wire, dropping kunai from the ceiling. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled, barely outpacing the rain of steel.

Ryoma smirked as the axe-pendulum swung back, bearing directly down upon his prey.

The sound of Nanjiroh swearing under his breath was sweet to his ears. The victory was premature, though; his father threw a kunai with inhuman speed, and the blade snapped neatly through the rope. Carried by its momentum, the axe flew free and tore through the shoji with a crash. Pale moonlight filtered into the dark room from outside.

"Oh ho, I thought it might be you," Nanjiroh commented with a grin, turning in his direction. "Thought you'd catch me off guard by coming early? You have to be smarter than that to get one over the great Echizen Nanjiroh!"

Ryoma wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his kodachi. The world seemed to sharpen and focus. He could hear the faint chirp of crickets outside and sense the tiny shifts of current in the air caused by his father's voice. The steel positively hummed under his fingers, seeming to throb in time with the beat of his heart.

This was living. He captured the sensation and relished it for a moment, savouring the taste in his memory. He couldn't fail.

His father obviously thought the exchange was over. He folded his arms with a smug grin. "So, brat? How's the mission going?"

Ryoma unsheathed his sword. Underneath his mask, his lips twisted into a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: I have been wanting to respond to people's reviews, but I cannot figure out what to say without either spoiling it myself or just being terribly curt and generic. Rest assured I am reading them and appreciating the feedback, however. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Almost the end, one chapter left!

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 13

* * *

Nanjiroh was unprepared for his attack and whirled away, threads of fabric floating to the floor. Ryoma didn't pause for even an instant, striking again. Steel rang against steel under the moonlight.

He spun on one foot, throwing a kunai, and followed it with another strike. Ryoma was putting all of his strength into each blow, and his arms began to ache faintly. Nanjiroh's own sword grazed his elbow, but he ignored the thin cut, continuing his assault single-mindedly. The old man was concentrating now. Sliding along the tatami mats, he kicked Nanjiroh's feet out from under him, but his father hopped back and regained his balance without even missing a step.

With cat-like speed, Ryoma threw three darts. His father dodged one, knocked aside the other, and sliced the third in half.

Smoke exploded in face. Ryoma dashed forward, then choked. Strong hands grasped at his neck and left wrist, lifting him from the ground. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed a dagger with his free hand and thrust it into the arm holding him.

After a moment the smoke dissipated, carried outside by the gentle evening breeze. Blood dripped on the floor. In looked like mercury in the silver light. Ryoma's eyes widened, even as he struggled to draw breath.

He'd done it.

He'd won.

Five seconds passed. Ten. Neither of them moved.

Nanjiroh smirked, looking satisfied. "That's twice now. You're improving. Seigaku's been good for you, I guess."

Twenty seconds. Thirty. Ryoma counted under his breath. Nanjiroh frowned at his lack of movement. "You're giving up now?" He inspected the wound on his left arm. It was small, but quite deep. "Ho, what's this?"

Ryoma tightened the grip on his kodachi in his trapped left hand; muscles tensed and ready to spring. His heart was racing; blood roared in his ears. Fifty seconds. Nearly there.

Nanjiroh, for his part, relaxed his grip some and broke into a grin as he inspected the irritated wound. "Hah, you're using poison now kiddo? Clever touch." He released him, and Ryoma slumped to the floor bonelessly, eyes wide. How...?

A minute. A minute and ten seconds. His father wasn't even reacting.

"You're immune?" he gasped. Impossible! It was the strongest poison Seigaku possessed! Inui created it by combining the venom of the most poisonous of Kaidoh's snakes! A decent dosage was supposed to kill any target in less than a minute!

"Of course I'm immune!" Nanjiroh laughed. "Do you know how many people have tried to poison me over the years? You'll need a pretty high dosage to even get me woozy!"

A high enough dosage… Ryoma gripped his kodachi and swept it upwards.

Nanjiroh flipped backwards as Ryoma rolled to his feet. "You're up for another round already?! Why so persistent today?" his father teased.

"I will not fail my mission," he murmured.

His father paused at that. "…Ryoma?"

"I will not fail my mission," he repeated, and dashed forward again, steel bared.

Nanjiroh was far faster than he, even on a bad day. He dodged easily, and stabbed downwards with a tanto. Ryoma let out a hiss between his teeth as pain blossomed in his thigh. He jerked the dagger out and threw it aside, turning to face his opponent once more. Blood ran down his leg, soaking into the black fabric.

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"My mission is to kill you. I will not fail," he said again.

Nanjiroh's eyes turned cold. "So that's it, then."

In that instant, Ryoma foresaw his death.

He barely raised the kodachi in time to avert the first blow. The blade went wide, slicing into his armpit instead of through his heart. The second slash grazed his face, opening a thin wound. His mask fell to the floor. Ryoma stepped backwards, barely keeping his footing under the barrage of powerful strikes.

His sword was knocked from his grasp, and skittered across the ground. A firm kick to the chest threw him against the wall with a bone-jarring thump. An instant later, Ryoma gasped as a blade pierced his left shoulder, pinning him to the wood like a butterfly. Stars of pain exploded behind his eyes.

His father left the sword there, stepping backwards and drawing a second kodachi. "I knew it was a risk, but I didn't think you'd have the guts to betray me. Seigaku must have filled your head will all sorts of silly ideas." Ryoma coughed weakly. He could feel the energy draining out of his body. His senses were starting to go numb, dulling the fierce pain from his wounds to a manageable level.

He had one last shot. His fingers clenched around the small package in his pocket.

Ryoma drew on the last reserves of his strength, and then threw it with all his might.

Nanjiroh knocked the small parcel aside with his fist just in time. It exploded mid-air, filling the room with fire and smoke. "Thanks, Kawamura-senpai," Ryoma wheezed.

Coughing, his father clambered back to his feet. His clothes were sooty and his right arm burnt and blistered, but he was otherwise intact. Ryoma let his hand drop. Was the old man invincible? Well, at least the base would be destroyed. Maybe that was close enough to fulfilling the mission requirements that Tezuka wouldn't think too badly of him. Even now, the flames were crawling across the floor, hungrily chewing through straw and rice paper. The temperature soared as the air crackled and hissed with sparks.

"You're just full of surprises today, boy," Nanjiroh remarked, seemingly unbothered by his burnt arm and the potential inferno. He raised his sword above his head. "This really is a big problem you've made for me here. But since I am your father, I'll give you one last chance. Abandon your mission."

"Never," he murmured, forcing himself to meet his father's eyes, even though the smoke made them sting. "I never fail my mission."

Nanjiroh seemed almost regretful. "You were going to be a fine ninja, kid." The sword descended. Ryoma closed his eyes, and awaited death.

A breath of cool air wafted over him. The expected pain didn't arrive. Hesitantly, Ryoma opened his eyes again.

A familiar silhouette stood in front of him with one hand raised, clutching a naked blade between his fingers.

"….Buchou?" Ryoma gasped.

"Echizen."

Nanjiroh stepped back. Tezuka dropped the blade, though his stance did not relax even a fraction. "…Oi, boy, _this_ is the captain you were talking about?"

Ryoma's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Tezuka was _here_? But how… why…?

"That's some technique you have there. No wonder the kid stopped complaining about the mission."

"The mission?" Tezuka asked.

_Don't tell him. Don't tell him._ Ryoma chanted mentally. Couldn't his father just let him die in peace? Didn't Ryoma have the right to die without Tezuka thinking the worst of him?

"Heh, of course. Never expected some unknown to be the leader of the Seigaku clan. I never would have ordered the boy to seduce you, otherwise. We sorted that misunderstanding out, though. Hope you weren't too heartbroken." Nanjiroh laughed at that. "I underestimated him, I guess! How on earth did he manage to get a serious-looking guy like you into bed?"

Realisation passed over Tezuka's eyes. "You ordered him to-?"

Perhaps now it would be Tezuka who killed him, instead of his father. That was the preferable outcome. Tezuka had every right to kill him. Ryoma would welcome it.

"Yeah."

"And then Ryuuzaki's granddaughter after that?"

"Of course. She was meant to be the target in the first place."

Tezuka stood straight. Was that betrayal in his features? Ryoma's vision was blurring – it was hard to see the captain's face clearly. "So you are trying to create a new clan after all."

Nanjiroh smirked. "What makes you think I need this brat to do that?"

Tezuka slid into stance, preparing to draw his sword. "You are operating in Seigaku's territory. You attempted to kill one of Seigaku's ninja."

Nanjiroh scowled. "Hey, you know he's only a Seigaku ninja because I ordered him to be."

Tezuka didn't respond.

"Heh, fine then. You look like you'll be a challenge." His father raised his kodachi again. "I don't understand your reasons, but if it matters so much to you…"

Their swords seemed to glow orange amongst the floating embers and crackling flames. Tendrils of smoke curled in their path, the scrape of metal getting lost amidst the roaring flames.

Ryoma blearily tried to keep track of the battle. Nanjiroh seemed to be moving slower than normal; was the poison finally having some effect? At least his father was wounded – maybe Tezuka could defeat him. Tezuka was the first ninja he'd ever met that he thought would have a chance.

Why was the captain fighting, though? Was he trying to fulfil the mission in Ryoma's place? He tried to focus on Tezuka, but his gaze kept wavering. The room was becoming unbearably warm, and it was difficult to breathe. It was probably because of the sword pinning him to the wall. He raised his hand and fumbled for the hilt. Taking a deep breath, he braced his feet against the ground and tugged the sword out. It made an unpleasant squelching noise. Ryoma almost blacked out from the pain.

Perhaps that wasn't such a great idea – he was able to breathe a little easier, but now blood was pouring from the wound at a slightly distressing rate. Ryoma pressed his hand against his shoulder in an attempt to stem the flow, but wasn't sure if he was doing much good. He slid to the ground, leaving a crimson smear on the wall behind him.

"Ryoma!" It sounded like Tezuka's voice, but he'd never heard the captain speak in that tone before. It was too expressive for the aloof and composed leader of Seigaku.

More voices. They sounded so far away. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.

"Che. This place is ruined now. What a waste."

His father. He still hadn't managed to kill him. He would, though. One day he'd be a better ninja, and he'd win. Better than his father. Better than Tezuka, too.

"You really care, don't you?"

Tezuka said something. Ryoma couldn't make out the words.

"You're a strange one. I guess the boy did his job too well this time. Since you gave me a good fight, I'll make you a deal. You drop your mission, I'll move out of your clan's territory, and you can have him."

More words.

"I wanted to travel anyway."

Ryoma felt his eyes sliding shut. His wounds didn't hurt anymore, but his body felt incredibly heavy. Just before he blacked out, he caught sight of a shadow leaning over him.

"I'll definitely surpass you one day," he whispered. But he didn't know who he was talking to anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: The last chapter, hooray! It's the sort of universe I could probably happily write lots and lots for, but you know what they say – best to leave the audience wanting more. ;) I hope everyone had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

* * *

**A Traditional Ninja Romance**

By Sinnatious

Chapter 14

* * *

Consciousness was a fickle thing. Ryoma wandered near it several times, but wasn't able to drag himself to the stage of coherent thought the first few tries. Once he had a vague sensation of worried voices murmuring around him, and another time of fingers softly brushing his arm. Something was keeping him from fully awakening, though. It was a like a really heavy blanket had been thrown over his head.

Eventually, snippets of memory started to worm their way into his thoughts. Tezuka's smooth baritone; cracking as he shouted his name. Heat, light and smoke. Steel dancing in between flames. The coppery aroma of blood mixing with the acrid scent of burning straw.

That's right, Tezuka and his father were fighting… the house was on fire…

"_Buchou_!" he exclaimed, sitting up in bed, arm outstretched. Seconds later he regretted the motion as pained lanced through his body. Ryoma gasped, falling back against the futon.

"Don't move," Tezuka ordered. "Your wounds are still healing, and you lost a lot of blood."

"At least let me sit up," he grumbled. Tezuka looked like he was about to argue, but eventually helped him into a sitting position.

Once upright, Ryoma glanced about in confusion. The room was very familiar… he was back in the compound. More specifically, Tezuka's room – the desk had been pushed into the corner. "What-" Where was the burning building?

"Inui found your letter."

It took a moment for Ryoma to figure out what he was talking about. "But… I tore that up…"

"That is certainly not enough to stop Inui."

The pieces were _small_. It must have taken him at least a while. He'd hidden them in his futon, too! As though anticipating his next question, Tezuka continued, "Admittedly, it wasn't complete when I came after you, and not all of it made sense until I heard what your father had to say."

His father… his _father_. "Buchou," he rasped. "I failed." It pained him to utter those words, but they needed to be said.

"You did no such thing."

"But-"

Strong arms encircled him. "You gave preference to Seigaku's orders over your father's without even thinking. The true purpose of your mission was to test that." The arms tightened. "However, I admit that I did not expect you to undertake a kamikaze run."

"It was the only way I had a hope of killing the old man."

"You should have said something. Did you honestly think that I would send you to your death?"

"Why wouldn't you, after I…"

There was a hand stroking his hair now. It made him feel sleepy. "Our intelligence on Echizen Nanjiroh had him as a retired ninja. Had I been aware that his strength had not significantly diminished, I would have certainly chosen another means of testing your true loyalty."

Ridiculous. "Are you saying that you made a mistake?" The steely, levelheaded captain of Seigaku's clan never made mistakes. Everyone knew that.

As though reading his mind, Tezuka responded, "Even the best captain can only be as good as his subordinates. And admittedly, my judgement in this matter was clouded."

"But… after I…" He'd _betrayed_ Tezuka. Wasn't the captain upset? First he'd dumped him and turned to Sakuno, and then his father revealed that even in the first place, it was all an elaborate ruse!

"Your letter was enough. But I admit that things made a lot more sense after hearing that you were acting on your father's orders."

"Ha?" Ryoma was confused.

Tezuka leaned in close to his ear. "Fuji told me about you throwing up."

That bastard. "That could have been anything!"

"Long-term acting isn't among your strengths. Your personality kept changing around me. And even Momoshiro noticed something was off when you started courting Ryuuzaki. I didn't understand why you would be so upset, though, when you were the one who decided to end things. Now, it makes sense."

"But I still… aren't you mad? Aren't you mad at all?" Ryoma demanded. Tezuka hadn't reacted at all when he dumped him, either. It _hurt_, Ryoma realised. It hurt even worse than his own betrayal to think that Tezuka cared so little that he wasn't even upset.

"For a while I was. But now that the truth is known, there is no need to be."

Ryoma closed his eyes. His throat felt tight. Did this mean… did Tezuka _forgive_ him? Dare he even contemplate the notion?

There was something he'd overlooked, though… "You knew I was an infiltrator?" he asked.

"I'm not certain if _infiltration _really fits what you did, but we suspected."

"Since when?"

"Since your battle with Ibu. He's Fudomine's ace. There was no way that a rookie without proper training in a dojo or lots of mission experience would have been able to fight him evenly. After that, we became aware of you sneaking out as well, though we could never discover where you went."

"And you let me do the paperwork under suspicion?" Knowing things like the clan's suppliers and mission details was valuable information for a spy.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't normally do that much paperwork. All of the requests and forms you copied out were dupes. If there was any action upon that misinformation, you would have been exposed as a spy."

Ryoma groaned. "All those hours of paperwork for nothing."

"I wouldn't say for nothing." Tezuka's grip tightened again, though he was being extremely careful of his bandaged shoulder.

"Wait… then…" Realisation settled in. He was possessed by the sudden urge to laugh. "Were you…?"

Tezuka withdrew from the embrace, looking uncomfortable. "It was Fuji's idea. Given how you acted around me, he thought it would be more effective than just surveillance. Honestly, I was a little surprised that it worked so well."

Unbelievable. "What are you talking about? _I_ did all the work," Ryoma scoffed, then glared. "If that was the case, why were you being so difficult about it?"

"I wasn't in favour of the plan. It was only when you came that night that I figured I should go ahead with it anyway. Honestly, I didn't really know what I was doing."

Ryoma didn't either, but he wasn't going to admit it. "So then…"

Stiffly, Tezuka glanced away. His cheeks started to glow faintly pink. "I… for me, as well. At some point..."

"You cut a deal with my father," he recalled abruptly.

Tezuka didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

"He was just being a pervert, anyway. I can't believe he put me through all that for something so stupid." That wasn't quite true, either. Nanjiroh had dismissed the matter of continuing the clan, but Ryoma had the niggling doubt that maybe that had been the old man's intention after all. Ever since Ryoga had vanished during that mission, his father was always worried about his legacy. But Ryoma didn't want to give Tezuka any reason to doubt the deal, and in any case it was blatantly obvious that the Echizen line wasn't going continue through him.

Tezuka still didn't comment. Hopefully he believed it and would let the deal stand.

Ryoma lay back on the futon. Sitting up was draining his energy too quickly. "The others?"

"Those in the main squad are aware of the situation. They are quite eager to see you after that letter you left."

"Hn." Ryoma's face burned at the thought of _anyone_ reading that letter – he'd never intended for another set of eyes to ever see it. He supposed he should be grateful in this one instance, though. If it weren't for Inui's nosiness, he'd probably be dead. "One thing bothers me."

"Yes?"

"You said you just suspected. How was killing _him_ supposed to test my loyalty?"

Tezuka thought on this for a moment, before launching into explanation. "It took a long time to find a connection between you and Samurai Ninja. When we heard the name Echizen-"

"You said you didn't know the name."

"More misdirection, I'm afraid."

"Then why didn't you follow me, to make sure I'd try to complete the mission? I could have warned him and escaped."

"We were prepared to deal with that consequence. Our primary interest was in preventing a rival clan rising within our own territory – without the need to test your loyalty we probably would have just run him off. I was hoping that if you _were_ loyal to your father that you would simply flee. I'd already decided to let you both go."

"Isn't that sweet of him?" a smooth voice added from the doorway.

Ryoma jumped at the introduction of a third person to their conversation. "Fuji-senpai?"

After that, the rest of the main squad spilled into the room in a disorganised mess. "Who pushed me?" Momoshiro yelled.

"Fsssshuuuu."

"Ochibiiiiii! I was so worried!"

They all crowded around the futon; though Oishi made sure everyone kept back. "Give him room, he has a lot of injuries!" he scolded.

"Don't worry about it, Oishi-senpai," said Ryoma.

"Worry about it? I spent _hours_ stitching you up! I wasn't sure if you were going to make it! You were stabbed in the leg, cut in the armpit, cheek and elbow, and had a sword go clean through your shoulder! It's a miracle it didn't hit any bones! You picked up burns from the fire, and were suffering from smoke inhalation when Tezuka brought you in!" Ryoma winced as Oishi started listing off his injuries.

"Wow, Echizen, you were really put through the ringer," Momoshiro observed, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Momo-senpai."

"Ochibi is so brave!"

"Has exceptionally high pain tolerance," Inui noted under his breath.

"We're glad Tezuka brought you back safely," Kawamura added. "And I'm really happy you're going to stay with the clan."

"Did you all know?" he asked, feeling strangely depressed by the notion. He'd been so careful! When did he slip so badly?

"It was just the senior members until a couple of days ago, but even after we discovered your fortnightly wandering, we found it rather difficult to follow you. Your movements were quite peculiar," Inui reported.

"Trying to follow Ochibi was so _tiring_," Eiji complained. "We had to stay so far behind so that he wouldn't notice us, and then he kept doubling back and changing paths!"

Ryoma blinked, thinking that over. Oh. He always followed the path that Horio showed him through the forest out of habit. Maybe that was why it took so long to get to his father's house every time. Ironic that it was what kept his colleagues from discovering his destination – and probably the very same thing that had saved his life. Tezuka wouldn't have made it in time otherwise.

"We never actually found out where you were going for sure. It was only when Inui found out about your father through chance that we put things together," Momoshiro explained. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think he'd order to you try and seduce Ryuuzaki's granddaughter, though! That sort of explains a lot."

Sakuno. Ryoma had forgotten about her. He had absolutely no intention of going through with his previous mission if he didn't have to report to his father anymore. But she _was_ the daimyo's granddaughter; upsetting her probably wasn't a great idea.

Fuji apparently noticed his concern. "As for Sakuno, just yesterday her grandmother called her back to the estate. She's been betrothed to a rather nice young noble in the north. They're getting married in the Spring, I believe. She really wanted to say goodbye to you, but unfortunately you were still unconscious."

How long was he unconscious for, anyway? "That's, um, a little convenient," Ryoma commented.

Fuji smiled. "You think so too?"

Right. Meddlesome ninja at work. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling suddenly tired. "So… no one has any problems with me staying?" It was a little hard to take it all in. Ryoma wasn't sure what he was more surprised about – that they'd known about his infiltration for so long, or that they were so willing to overlook it.

"Of course not, Ochibi! How could you think such a thing?" Eiji exclaimed, moving to hug him before being tugged back by Oishi.

"I told you he was badly injured!"

Momoshiro scratched the back of his head. "Even after Inui told us to be on the lookout, I had trouble believing it. You sort of fit in, you know? And it's not like you really betrayed us, or anything. I mean - it wasn't like you sold information or tried to kill anyone or sabotage missions."

The only one he'd really betrayed was Tezuka, but by some sort of gift of the gods, the captain didn't appear to care about it anymore. Ryoma supposed that the captain's own acts of subterfuge sort of evened it out.

"Certainly, our mission success rate has improved with Echizen's addition to the clan," Inui quipped.

"The brat's useful," Kaidoh agreed gruffly.

"And everything has been worked out now, right?" Kawamura added helpfully.

"Tezuka would be quite upset, otherwise," Fuji remarked.

It was really amazing. Seigaku was something else indeed. Ryoma didn't think he'd ever felt this comfortable before in his life.

"I get to stay," he murmured, mostly to himself. Tezuka heard anyway. He picked up his hand, threading their fingers together.

"You're definitely staying, even if I have to tie you down with wire," Tezuka said sternly.

"Kinky," Ryoma muttered.

The edges of Tezuka's mouth quirked into a hint of smile. "You scared me," he admitted softly. "When Inui started reading out your messages, and I realised what you were planning to do…"

Ryoma brought their hands to his lips – his body ached too much to do much else. Oishi speaking of his injuries made him uncomfortably more aware of them. "You really don't care about all that I did?"

"Of course I care," Tezuka said. His voice was as business-like as always, but Ryoma thought he spied a glint of mischief in the captain's eyes. "But it doesn't really matter anymore."

At his questioning glance, Tezuka drew back his hand and leant over the futon, placing a hand on the ground either side of his head. "I made a deal with your father, after all. You belong to me, now." He leant down, and brushed their lips together.

It sent thrills through his body. The difference between kisses with Sakuno and Tezuka was like night and day. Ryoma shivered. "What are my orders, Buchou?" he asked breathily.

Tezuka didn't answer; he just captured his lips in another kiss.

After a long moment, Momoshiro cleared his throat. "Um, maybe we should leave."

"I would sort of like to stay," Fuji remarked. Tezuka and Ryoma both froze; they'd briefly forgotten that the others were still in the room with them.

"It is improbable, given Echizen's injuries, that they would progress to-"

"Everybody out!" Tezuka ordered. Ryoma was mildly amused to note that he sounded slightly panicked.

Half of them filed out of the room hurriedly, while the other half groaned and dragged their feet, disappointed that their entertainment was stolen from them.

Seigaku really was a very weird clan, but Ryoma didn't mind.

* * *

END.


End file.
